


as the world caves in

by wild_and_arranged



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Bisexual Rosita Espinosa, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Forehead Kisses, Friends to Lovers, Gender Identity, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nonbinary Character, Walkers (Walking Dead), Zombie Apocalypse, this is just me thinking about how it would be to navigate the walking dead universe as an enby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wild_and_arranged/pseuds/wild_and_arranged
Summary: "'I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we've suffered enough,'" Janey quotes, smiling gently at their lover."What is that from?" Rosita asks softly, pulling one of her hands from Janey's to wipe at her face.Janey takes the opportunity to use their now free hand to comfort the woman, bringing it up to her face to rub their thumb across her cheekbone. "It's a poem I liked, in the old world. Nikka Ursula. I think it fits us pretty well, don't you?"Rosita's eyes soften impossibly. She places her hand on top of Janey's on her face, intertwining their fingers together and bringing their clasped hands down to her lips, placing a kiss to Janey's palm. "I love you."It's the first time either of them has said it, though they've both felt it for a while now. The two of them have never needed words to express themselves together, but it's nice all the same to occasionally confirm their feelings out loud.It takes Janey only a second to respond. "'I love you until this earth swallows my bones or to dust i return.'"-           in which an openly non-binary character exists in the walking dead universe.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Carol Peletier, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee, Rick Grimes/Michonne, Rosita Espinosa/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. I. NO ONE SHOULD BE ALONE IN THIS WORLD

**Author's Note:**

> 2020 has made me rewatch the walking dead and also get back into fanfiction. 
> 
> this will be a slowburn fic with rosita espinosa/afab nonbinary oc, because i'm afab nonbinary and would like to see myself represented in fics! plus i think it's so funny to imagine how each of the twd characters would react to me/my pronouns. 
> 
> this fic starts in the season 3 episode "hounded" and will continue from there, sticking to canon events with some changes because the oc's presence affects things. i stick with the official timeline in the beginning, but as time goes on i'll be fudging the numbers bc seasons 1-8 taking place over less than 2 years makes no sense, so i'll be changing that!
> 
> with all that being said, i hope you all enjoy this!

It's been 310 days.

At least, that's how long Janey thinks it's been. They're not really sure of the timeline, given how hard it is to keep track of time passing these days. 

They’ve been sleeping in the woods for the last month or so, keeping one eye open at almost all times. Living alone in this new world is not easy, but Janey’s last group had been torn apart by walkers, leaving the few survivors to scatter on their way from the camp. They hadn’t seen anyone else since then; at least, not anyone alive. 

Janey had planned to stay in the woods, constantly moving to avoid a repeat of the last time they settled somewhere, but the need for something other than the nuts and berries that the wilderness provided leads them to enter the small grocery store. It’s there where everything changes.

They’re in the snack aisle of the store, perusing the almost barren shelves for something to take with them back into the woods. There’s a couple bags of stale chips left, a treasure in this new world. Janey carefully places them in their backpack and throws one strap over their shoulder, quickly moving to the next aisle. They had done a quick sweep of the store when they entered, and it was devoid of people and walkers, but they had no idea how long it would stay that way. It would be better if they got what they needed and left as quickly as they could.

There’s a few cans of beans left in the Hispanic food aisle; Janey takes those, too, throwing them in the bag on top of the chips and zipping it up, the bag slightly bulging. They swing both straps on, shoulders slumping at the extra weight. They swipe a hand at the back of their neck, pulling their stringy orange hair out from under the straps, before turning to face the entrance of the store. That’s when the doors swing open, a man and a woman walking inside with their guns raised. 

Immediately, the couple spots them. Their eyes widen, both keeping their guns raised and aimed at Janey, who raises their own gun in return. The three stand there for a beat in silence, unsure what to do. Janey hasn’t had to interact with other people in so long, they don’t know how to get out of this situation. 

Suddenly, the woman lowers her gun, turning to the man next to her and placing a hand on his arm. He meets her gaze, incredulous, but she says, “Glenn, that’s just a kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Janey states, voice raspy from weeks of no use, but lowers their own gun as well once they see the man, Glenn, do the same. 

In the next few moments of silence, Janey takes the time to study the couple. The woman has a kind face, brown hair falling in waves down to her chin. The man next to her is Korean, standing a few inches taller than her, short dark hair slicked back. They look nice enough, but Janey knows not to always trust first impressions. 

“How old are you then?” Glenn asks, taking a cautious step towards them. They take a step back in return, hand itching to grasp at the knife attached to their side. 

They wait a moment, and then simply say, “Twenty two.”

The couple look shocked at this, almost disbelieving, but Janey doesn’t give them long to process this information before asking, “Who are you?”

The two meet each other’s eyes quickly, having a silent conversation. Janey feels a quick, sharp pang of jealousy at their obvious deep connection with one another, but they shove it away. _Now is not the time_ , they think. 

After their silent conversation, the duo turn back to Janey. “I’m Maggie,” says the woman, smiling slightly. “And this is Glenn. What’s your name?”

Janey stares at them in silence before deciding that giving their name can’t do too much harm. “I’m Janey,” they respond, finally sheathing their gun in the holster on their thigh. Though they had no desire to group up with people again, they still recognized that there was no immediate danger from the couple. It couldn’t hurt to have a conversation before escaping back to the familiar comfort of the woods.

“Do you have a group?” Glenn asks, entwining his hand with Maggie’s and pulling her further into the store. 

“No.” Janey looks away from the pity in the duo’s eyes, turning their gaze down to the scuffed combat boots on their feet. The toe of the boots was ripping; it wouldn’t be long before they would need to scavenge for a new pair. 

“We have one,” the brunette states, dropping Glenn’s hand and stepping closer to Janey. The man takes the opportunity to explore other aisles; Janey can hear items clanking together as they’re dropped into one of the shopping baskets, but they don’t look away from their boots. “We’re here getting supplies to bring back. We could bring you back with us, too.”

Janey continues looking down at the floor, unable to meet Maggie’s gaze. They close their eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before opening them again. The last time someone had said those words to them, a lot of people had ended up dead. They weren’t one to believe in superstitions, but they had begun to think of themself as bad luck; everyone around them got hurt or killed. It was better to stay away from everyone so that couldn’t happen again.

Glenn returns in this moment, and Janey finally looks up from the floor, eyes catching on the basket on Glenn’s hand. It’s filled with a few canned goods and quite a lot of-

“Is that formula?” Janey asks, confused. Why would anyone need formula, of all things?

Glenn and Maggie look at each other again, another silent conversation taking place before they turn back to Janey. “Yes,” Glenn says. “We have a baby back with our group.”

“A _baby_?” 

“Yeah, we had a hard time believing it, too,” Maggie tells them, smiling. “But she’s been a little miracle for us.”

Janey doesn’t know how to respond to that. The old Janey- Before Janey- had loved kids, always loving to visit with their baby cousins before the world went to shit. They still have no idea what had happened to them, or anyone in their family. Once all forms of communications had fallen, there was no way for them to contact anyone. They tell themself that they’re all dead, their whole family; it makes it easier. 

The couple notice the effect that his information has on them, and quickly decide to move on. 

“We need to get back,” Glenn informs Maggie, looking over at Janey for a moment before turning back to the brunette. “Lil’ Ass Kicker is gonna be hungry soon.”

Janey can’t help themself. “‘Lil’ Ass Kicker’?” they question, amused. “That’s an interesting name for a baby.”

The dark haired man smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, well. It’s not her real name. She hasn’t been named yet.”

Janey finally cracks a smile at how embarrassed the man seems before quickly schooling their features back into a stoic mask. “Well,” they say, “you should get back to her then.”

The couple turn to each other again, having yet another silent conversation, before it turns verbal. 

“We can’t just leave the girl here alone,” Maggie tells Glenn, imploring him to agree. 

“Not a girl,” Janey counters, and gives them no time to respond before adding, “And yes you can. I like being alone. It’s better that way.”

“Listen,” Glenn says, handing the shopping basket to Maggie so he can approach Janey, hands up in a placating manner. “You could come back with us. We have shelter, food, beds. We have a family. You could be a part of that.”

It’s a tempting offer. They haven’t had real shelter since the world ended. The last group they were with was just a camp full of tents; food was scarce, and there certainly weren’t any beds. Janey had felt a kinship with that group, but hadn’t really gotten to know any of them enough to call them family. The chance to have something like that, to be a part of something that resembled what life was like Before- that was something they so badly wanted, but-

“I can’t,” they respond, voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Maggie encouraged gently, seeing how emotional Janey was becoming.

“Yes,” Glenn agrees, taking another step closer to them. “You just have to answer three questions.”

“What?” Janey asks, confused.

“How many walkers have you killed?” the man asks. 

They’re confused by the question, but answer anyway. “Too many to count.”

Glenn nods approvingly at this, and then asks, "How many people have you killed?" 

This question gives Janey pause. They know the answer; it's kind of hard not to keep track. Every life ended by your own hand plays through your mind in a constant, haunting loop. When they close their eyes at night all they see is the life leaving those who they killed. 

“Four,” they finally say, forcing themself to make eye contact with Glenn. 

Glenn looks at Janey with shock and apprehension in his eyes. They know why- they don’t strike you as the type of the person who can defend themself. They’re short in stature, barely touching over 5 feet. The gun in their hand and the knife on their belt look ridiculous given how young they look. It has been a while since Janey had looked in a mirror, but they were sure they hadn’t changed that much in the few months since then. Despite how much the end of the world had aged them, they still look younger than their 22 years. 

Glenn’s next question brings Janey out of their thoughts. “Why?”

They meet Glenn’s eyes with a hardened stare. “Because I had to.”

The couple look at each other again, engaging in another conversation that Janey doesn’t get to be privy to, but they don’t mind. They know the gist of what they must be discussing anyway: whether or not this orange-haired stranger in front of them could be trusted. 

“Come back with us,” the brunette finally says after several minutes. “No one should be alone in this world.”

“I’ve been alone for so long… I don’t think I know how to be anything else.” They look back down to their boots again.

“It’s okay,” Maggie tries to reassure them. 

"Hey," the seriousness in Glenn's tone makes Janey look up, meeting his gaze. "We want you to come with us, but you don't have to stay. If you don't want to be there, we won't force you. We're just asking you to give it a chance." 

The two look at each other in silence for several moments, both refusing to look away until a decision is made. 

Finally, Janey says, "Okay." 

Maggie smiles at them now, a real one, so blindingly beautiful that Janey freezes for a second before shaking themself out of it. The woman grabs Glenn’s hand again and starts to drag him back to the front of the store. Janey follows.

They're right in front of the entrance when the brunette stops them.

"Glenn, get that duck," Maggie says, pointing to a stuffed duck sitting on one of the shelves.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Get the duck," she repeats herself.

"Seriously?" he questions, incredulous.

"Yes!" Maggie insists. "A kid growing up in a prison could use some toys."

 _A prison?_ Janey thinks, but decides not to ask about it. They're sure they'll see what she means soon enough.

Glenn grabs the duck Maggie pointed to, adding it to the pile of items in the shopping basket in Maggie's hands. With that, the two decide that they have enough of a haul to take back, and open the store's doors, stepping out into the sunlight. Janey follows behind them hesitantly, still not feeling comfortable about going with them instead of hightailing it back into the woods. 

"We could probably make it back in time for dinner," Glenn says, raising a hand to his forehead as he squints up at the sun. "It's a straight shot from here."

"It's so nice out here," Maggie says, taking a moment to bask in the warmth. "It’s so quiet out in town. Back home, you can always hear them, no matter where you are." 

Janey is about to ask her to elaborate on what she means by that when another voice cuts them off, deep and raspy. "And where is it y'all good people call home?" 

The three of them turn in sync, finding themselves face to face with a man, a lot older than them, a metal contraption attached to his right arm, gun in his left. It takes less than a second for Janey to process this new person and then raise their own gun to point directly at his forehead.

Before they can do anything, they hear Glenn say "Merle?" in a shocked voice.

They turn to their new companion, surprised that it seems he knows this newcomer. 

"Well I'll be damned," says the man, Merle, taking a step closer. 

"Back the hell up!" Maggie yells, cocking her gun and keeping it fixed on Merle.

"Whoa, whoa, Jesus!" He backs up, raising his hands in the air to show surrender. "Sorry, honey." 

“I’m not your honey,” she bites out. The man just grins at her.

"You made it," Glenn says, sounding incredulous. 

Merle ignores this comment, instead asking, "Can you tell me, is my brother alive?"

The dark haired man shares a look with Maggie before turning back and answering, "Yeah." 

"You take me to him and I'll call it even on everythin’ that happened in Atlanta."

Janey didn't know this man, and had no idea what had happened in Atlanta, but they knew they didn’t trust him. There was something about him- an unchecked anger lingering in his eyes. There was blood on his face from an injury to his nose. Janey didn’t like what that implied- that he’d recently gotten into a fight with another person. In this world, that wasn’t common; at least, not to them. He must have done something bad enough to be on the receiving end of such a personal blow.

Glenn’s voice cuts through their thoughts. “We’ll tell Daryl that you’re here and he can come meet you.”

Merle’s face tightens at this. “Hey, the fact that we found each other is a miracle. You can trust me.”

“ _You_ trust _us_ ,” Glenn insists, tightening his grip on his gun.

The strange man pauses for a moment and then, suddenly, he brings his gun up. Janey dives out of the way, noticing out of the corner of their eye as the couple does the same. Merle shoots the back windshield of the car out, glass flying everywhere, some landing in Janey’s hair. When they get back up from their crouching position, they’re met with the sight of Merle holding a gun to Maggie.

“Hold up!” He says, readying his finger at the trigger. “Hold up!”

Glenn’s entire demeanor has changed with Maggie being put directly in danger. He’s angry, and scared, full of fear. He can’t lose her. “Let go of her!” He yells. “Let her go!”

“Put the gun in the car, son,” Merle says, nodding his head to Glenn. “Yours too, darlin’.” He directs the last bit at Janey. 

Janey makes eye contact with Glenn over the roof of the car. It only takes half a second until he nods at them, and the two open the front car doors and set their guns inside. 

“Alright, now we’re gonna go for a little drive,” the one-armed man says, then tells Glenn to get in the car. 

“We’re not going back to our camp,” he insists, refusing. 

“No,” the man counters. “We’re goin’ somewhere else. Now get in the damn car! You’re driving! Move!” He sets the gun more firmly against Maggie’s temple, stopping her squirming.

“Okay!” Glenn holds his hands up in a surrender. “Don’t… Just… Okay. Okay.”

He gets into the driver's seat, putting the car in drive as Merle throws Maggie into the backseat and gestures with his gun for Janey to follow her. They get into the back, closing the door as Merle settles into the passenger side, keeping his gun pointed at Glenn as he pulls out of the store parking lot. 

Janey keeps their gaze on the window, watching the scenery pass by as Glenn drives to wherever Merle is taking them. How did they get here? Just this morning, they were rummaging through the woods, reliving the same day they have for the last month, just trying to make it by. Now, they were stuck with a man who would kill them if they moved wrong, or kill their newfound friends. Janey hadn’t imagined that they would come to care about anyone else, especially not people they had just met barely an hour ago, but the kindness the couple had showed them had cemented their bond with each other. They will do whatever it takes to make sure the two get back home, and get that formula back for the baby. 

At that moment, they feel a pressure on their hand. They turn their head away from the window, avoiding looking at the gun pressed to Glenn's head, and lock eyes with Maggie. The brunette sends a small smile their way, tightening her fingers on Janey's, resting their interlocked fingers on the leather seat. 

_We'll get out of this_ , Maggie mouths, squeezing Janey's fingers. 

They give a slight nod in response, appreciating her attempt at comforting them, and turn back to the window.

 _Yes we will_ , Janey thinks, and keeps Maggie's hand in theirs for the rest of the way.


	2. II. WELCOME TO WOODBURY

They were brought into a town barricaded by steel walls, piles of tires stacked up along the sides of it. 

Merle directed Glenn to park the car right in front of the gate, two armed guards standing tall above it. As soon as the car is parked he reaches around to the backseat and grasps Maggie’s hair between his fingers, pushing his gun back against her temple as she cries out in pain. 

“Hey!” Glenn shouts, turning in his seat to face Merle next to him. “You don’t have to do that, we’re cooperating!”

The one-armed man grins, a taunting smile. “And you’re gonna keep cooperatin’. Get outta the car.”

The dark-haired man hurries to do as he’s asked, the other watching him with a smirk. Then Merle turns to face Janey, still seated in the backseat, their eyes fixed in a hardened glare on the man in the seat in front of them. 

“You get out now, too, sweetheart,” he says, smirking. 

Janey doesn’t want to follow his orders, but one look at Maggie’s pained face is enough to get them to listen. They step out of the car and lean against the door, watching as Merle forces Maggie out of the other side, pushing her into Glenn’s waiting arms. 

The couple is only reunited for a minute before Merle is out of the car and speeding over to them, grabbing the brunette from her boyfriend’s arms and pressing the gun into her side again. “Don’t be too hasty now,” he says, enjoying tormenting Glenn.

“What the hell is this, Merle?” one of the men standing guard question, annoyed, as they look down at the scene below them. 

“Brought the Gov’nor some gifts,” he replies, gesturing with the metal contraption of his arm. 

Janey can see the guard raise his eyebrows, looking over at his partner before the latter steps down and opens the gate. Merle gestures for Glenn and Janey to walk forward, and they both do so without protest, worried for Maggie’s safety. 

Once they’ve stepped past the gate, the guard shuts it behind them and takes the time to assess Merle’s captives, looking the three up and down before making eye contact with the man. He says, “Not sure how much the Governor will like these gifts.”

The one-armed man just grins again, stained teeth on full display. “Oh, he’ll like ‘em,” he assures, choosing not to elaborate. 

He suddenly pushes Maggie into the guard’s arms, raising his gun to keep it focused on Glenn. “Take her and lock her up” he tells the guard, not looking away from the dark haired man’s panicked eyes. “Keep her separated from these two.”

“No, please-” Glenn starts to protest, but it’s cut off quickly by Merle pistol whipping him, knocking him out. 

Maggie starts to scream but the guard holding her places a hand over her mouth and starts to carry her away as she kicks at him unsuccessfully. Janey had hoped, before this moment, that the three of them would be able to overpower their captor eventually and be able to escape. Now, with Glenn passed out and Maggie taken away, they’re not sure that escape is a viable option anymore. However, they refuse to go down without a fight. 

With Glenn on the ground and injured, Merle takes the chance to turn his full attention to Janey for the first time. He steps up to them, getting so close that they can smell his breath. It’s repulsive. Janey doesn’t have consistent access to a toothbrush, but they have still managed to keep their teeth relatively clean in the months since the world ended. It seems that their captor has not made the same efforts. 

“Well, darlin’, looks like it’s just you and me,” he says, running the edge of the gun down Janey’s jaw. 

They look at him, staring right into his eyes, unfazed. Then, they glance down at the gun now resting against their jawline, and look back up before spitting directly into Merle’s face. 

His grin falls off his face as he removes the gun from their face to use that hand to wipe the saliva off his face. Then, he whacks Janey with the gun, right in the jaw. Their head spins to the side, but they recover quickly and glare at the man again as he gets right into their face. “Don’t try that again,” he says, voice low and dangerous. 

They don’t respond, instead looking away and down to Glenn, who now seems to be waking up. 

Merle notices too, and reaches his hand down to the man’s arm to snatch him off the ground, forcing him to his feet. There’s blood dripping down his temple, and Janey is sure that a bruise is already blossoming on their own jaw, but the two of them are alright. There’s only a second for the two to make eye contact and assure themselves that the other is okay before Merle is pressing them on, forcing them to walk further into the town. 

“What the hell is this place?” Janey brings themself to ask, tone biting, as they’re ushered through the streets of the dark town, the sun having set on the drive there. 

“You’ve got balls, darlin’, I’ll give you that,” Merle says, seemingly amused by the anger in their tone. Before Janey can rebuke his term of endearment, he continues, “Welcome to Woodbury! Gov’nor’s got us a nice set up ‘ere.”

 _Woodbury,_ they think, _What a stupid fucking name_. 

There’s no time for more questions, as they’ve approached a building, front door wide open. Their captor pushes the two in, gesturing for them to walk down the stairs to their left. They do, taking each one at a time, hoping to delay the inevitable. 

Once they reach the bottom, they notice that the guard from earlier, who had taken Maggie away, is already there, leaning against the wall. He straightens up at their arrival and walks over to the three of them. Merle pushes Janey into his arms; they aren’t expecting it, and they stumble, ankle twisting painfully, as they land in the man’s arms. He immediately tightens his grip on them, preventing them from trying anything. 

Glenn is similarly trapped in Merle’s grip, but he’s able to fight harder than Janey is, being physically stronger than they are. “Now, now, don’t go gettin’ your panties in a twist,” Merle says, pressing his gun more firmly into Glenn’s temple until the man stops fighting. “No one has to get hurt. We’re just gonna separate ‘cha, ask a few questions.”

“We’re not telling you shit,” Glenn bites out, angry, but he’s not resisting anymore. 

“If you don’t feel inspired to help us, I’m sure that little girlfriend of yours could help us out instead,” Merle replies. His captive freezes at the mention of Maggie again. “She’s pretty as a Georgia peach, ain’t she?” He grins at the way Glenn starts to struggle against his grip again at his words. 

“If you touch her-”

“You’ll what?” He cuts off. Then, he looks at the guard, who has been silently watching the exchange. “Take the girl to her own room, find out what she knows. I’ll deal with this one.”

“Not a girl!” Janey yells, defiant, as they’re pulled away from Glenn and shoved into a dark room. 

“Woman, then!” They hear Merle yell before the door is closed behind them and the guard. 

The guard shoves them over to a chair in the center of the room, hastily binding their arms and legs to it before they can process it. When he’s done, he steps away, standing closer to the door than to Janey, who struggles against the binds for a moment before giving up. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” they question the man, who only stares back without saying a word. “Seriously, dude, what the fuck? I know society’s collapsed, but that doesn’t mean you can just do this shit.”

“Where is your camp?”

Janey is confused at this. _That’s_ the information that they want so bad? Where their camp is? “I don’t have a camp,” they inform him. It’s not a lie; they don’t have a camp, not anymore, and living alone in the woods, constantly on the move, didn’t count as one either. 

“I’m gonna ask again,” the man says, leaning in closer to their face. “The camp you were going back to with the woman and the Asian. Where is it?”

“I. Don’t. Have. A. Camp.” they say it slowly, carefully enunciating each word. 

The guard is getting angry now, leaning in even closer, placing his hands on top of Janey’s wrists against the arms of the chair. They wait until he’s close enough before moving their head back and snapping it forward quickly, headbutting the guard right in the nose. Their head pounds in protest, but the bloodied mess left on his face as he pulls back and yells a pained “Fuck!”makes it worth it. He cups his hands over his face to stop the bleeding, backing up until his back is pressed against the door. 

Janey leans back in the chair, satisfied. They know they have only made the guard angrier, that Merle and maybe the “Governor” will probably come in eventually to question them more, but at this moment they can’t bring themself to regret their actions. They had promised themself from the beginning that they would not go down in this world without putting up a fight. 

“You bro’ my nose!” the guard yells, voice dripping with rage. 

He drops his hands from his face now, stalking back over to Janey’s side of the room. They barely have time to smirk at the swollen, bloody sight of the man’s face before he’s in their face again, throwing a fist directly at their temple. 

Their face snaps to the side from the attack, head spinning, but they’re not given time to recover before the guard is throwing another blow, then another. 

**……**

Over the next few hours- or what feels like hours, Janey can only guess- they’re left alone in the room. It’s not a reprieve of the torture though; they can hear Glenn yelling and grunting from somewhere else in the building, and Maggie screaming in turn. It’s somehow worse than the physical beating the guard had given them. 

Finally, when they’re sure they can’t take any more, the door opens again. Merle steps in, followed by another man whose presence is immediately disarming. He’s cold, expressionless. _This must be the Governor_ , Janey thinks. 

They shut the door behind them, Merle staying standing by the wall, arms crossed as he stares at Janey, face blank. The Governor walks up to Janey, crouching down to be level with them. He takes a pocket knife out of the back of his pants, and they flinch at the sight of it, but he only uses it to cut their restraints. They pull their hands into their lap, bringing the left one over to rub at the marks on their right wrist. They want to use this opportunity to try to fight back, but the Governor’s demeanor has them on edge, afraid of the madness that lingers behind his eyes. 

“Sorry about that,” the man says. He stands back up and takes a step back. “I apologize for how my men have treated you.”

“Oh, a real Southern gentleman,” Janey replies sardonically, still rubbing at the raw skin of their wrists. 

Anger crosses the man’s face, but it’s gone in an instant, face returning to it’s emotionless mask. “This was all just a misunderstanding,” he assures, looking back at Merle before returning his gaze to the orange-haired captive in the chair. “Just tell us where your camp is and we’ll explain everything to your people.”

“Like I told your _men_ , I don’t have a camp. I don’t have ‘people.’”

“What do ya call those two we got locked up in here with ya, then?” Merle questions, then immediately quiets at a glance from the Governor. 

Janey’s face tightens at the reminder that Glenn and Maggie are somewhere nearby, being put through something much worse than they have. “I don’t know what you want from me,” they say, voice cracking slightly before they swallow down the fresh wave of emotion. “I told you I don’t have what you want. Just let us go.”

“Now you see, I can’t do that,” the Governor says, crossing his arms across his chest menacingly. “Your people are too dangerous. We can’t just let you go back to them and tell them where we are.”

“I don’t-”

“STOP LYING TO ME!” He bellows, accompanying his words with a hard smack to Janey’s already bruised cheek. “I’m tired of this! Merle, grab her.”

Janey doesn’t even have the energy left to protest the wrong pronoun as they’re hauled out of the chair, ankle throbbing in protest, and being brought into Merle’s tight embrace, the metal contraption of his right arm pressing into their throat. Being alone for so long had brought with it the luxury of not having to worry about explaining their gender or pronouns to anyone, of not having to deal with the awkward confusion that inevitably follows the conversation. Their identity is usually disrespected regardless, so why even bother?

The Governor exits the room, stalking into another across the way. As soon as he enters, the door beside it bursts open, Glenn storming out. He’s bloodied, face a broken mess with one eye swollen shut, as he swings a weapon around, his good eye widening when he sees Janey’s appearance. Before either of them can say anything, the Governor comes back out, a shirtless Maggie trapped in his arms. 

“Drop the weapon!” Merle yells at Glenn, bringing up his left arm to point a gun at him. Glenn eyes Maggie, his eyes tracing her face to ensure himself that she’s okay, at least physically. After doing this, he drops the weapon to the floor, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“I’m done with games,” the Governor says, flexing the muscles of the arm that’s wrapped around Maggie’s chest. “Now, one of you is going to tell us where your camp is.”

The three captives are all silent, Janey not knowing the answer and the couple not wanting to give up the rest of their group. 

After a beat, the Governor raises the gun in his free hand and points it at Glenn, who doesn’t flinch at all. 

Maggie suddenly calls out, desperate, “The prison! That’s where our camp is.”

“The one near Noonan?” Merle clarifies. “That place is overrun.”

“It was,” Maggie says, looking at Glenn with sad eyes. “We took it.”

“How many of you are there?” the Governor asks, keeping his gun raised. 

“Ten. Ten, now.” 

“Ten of you cleared a whole prison of biters?” Maggie lets out a sob now, obviously upset with herself for giving in to the Governor’s torture and putting her family in danger. “Hey, shh. It’s alright,” the man comforts. Then, he shoves her away towards Glenn, who grabs her, pulling her into him and making sure that her chest is covered, wrapping his arms around her as she continues sobbing. 

Merle, taking direction from the Governor, releases his grip on Janey, pushing them towards the embracing couple. They stand next to them in silence, wanting to comfort Maggie, but not sure how, and scared of what was to come now that the men had the information they wanted. 

“You,” the Governor says, pointing a finger at Merle, who straightens up. “Assemble a small group and stake out the prison. See if she’s lying, if a group with your brother at the center could do what you told me couldn’t be done. Prove to me where your loyalties lie.”

“Here,” Merle tells him, voice firm. “I’ll prove it.”

With that, he exits the room. The Governor herds the three into the room where Glenn had come from, lock clicking. Then, silence. 

Glenn is the first to break it. He rips off his shirt, handing it to Maggie and leaving himself bare chested. “Did he-” He cuts himself off, unable to finish his question. 

“No.” She puts the shirt on; it’s big on her and hangs off her frame. “No, he didn’t.”

She slides down the wall, sitting with her back against it, knees up. Glenn and Janey do the same, sitting on either side of her, the latter crossing their legs in front of themself, careful to keep the leg with their injured ankle on top. The trio sit together like this for a few minutes, their ragged breathing the only sound filling the room. 

“All this time with walkers…” Maggie says, looking at her hands as she twists her fingers together. “You forget what people do, what they’ve always done.”

She turns then and looks at Janey, eyes brimming with tears again at the sight of her new friend’s bruised face. She scoots closer across the floor, raising a hand to swipe her thumb across Janey’s cheekbone. She removes it pretty quickly at their flinch.

“Sorry,” they apologize, feeling bad for shrinking away, then feeling weird for apologizing for something they can’t help. 

“What did they do to you?” the brunette asks, voice raw and broken. 

“I’m okay,” Janey assures her, ignoring the question and putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Their eyes then drift over to Glenn. “What happened to you?”

He gestures to a rotten corpse on the ground. “Threw a walker in with me. Had to fight it off.”

He stands and walks over to it now, crouching down and ripping an arm off. Janey is confused why until he reaches in and pulls out two pieces of bone. He stands back up and walks over to them, handing Janey and Maggie each a bone. “We’re getting out of here,” he tells them, so firmly that Janey instantly believes him. 

“Hell yeah we will,” they state, keeping their hand on Maggie’s shoulder and reaching out with the other to clasp Glenn’s. “We have to. There’s no other option.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy (not so happy) chapter 2! i hope you've enjoyed this one!
> 
> as you can tell, i've borrowed some of the dialogue from the show (all rights to amc, yadda yadda yadda), but i also added in some other details in hopes to make it more interesting to read!
> 
> this is part 1 of 2 in woodbury! next chapter will deal with the end of that, i'm excited for anyone reading this (if anyone is lol) to see where it goes next :)


	3. III. GO AND NEVER COME BACK

They don’t have to wait long. 

The chance for escape comes fast. The lock clicks and the door swings open, Merle and the guard from earlier stepping in. Before they can do anything, Maggie rushes up to the guard and jabs her bone shard into the man’s neck, blood spurting out and coating her face. Glenn and Janey are both shocked at the kind woman’s display of anger and find themselves frozen for a moment. 

The brunette pulls the bone back out, letting the man slump to the floor as he bleeds out. Glenn snaps into action and jumps at Merle, knocking him onto the ground. The two fight while Janey and Maggie come together to take on another armed man who has joined the fight. 

After a moment, Merle overpowers Glenn, flipping him onto his back on the floor and placing a knife to his throat. He stops struggling immediately under its sharp pressure on his neck. Maggie’s eyes widen when she notices her partner on the ground. She immediately reaches down to steal one of the fallen guard’s guns and points it at Merle, screaming, “Let him go!” 

Merle keeps the knife fixed on Glenn, making eye contact with the brunette as he presses it tighter to his exposed throat. Maggie drags her eyes from the man’s to look down at where the knife rests. She stares for a moment, and then lowers her gun. Janey follows her lead, dropping the bone shard they still hold in their hand.

Merle smirks at this, satisfied. A few more of the Governor’s men step into the room, two of them grabbing Maggie and Janey, forcing their arms behind their back, as Merle forces Glenn up and to his feet. They’re all ushered back into the hallway from earlier, the guards who hold them forcing them to their knees and binding their hands. 

Janey looks over at the couple, who are now holding hands, and sees them sharing a glance that’s filled with a thousand words. Maggie says a shaky “I love you,” to Glenn before a burlap sack is shoved over all of their faces. There’s a gun placed to the back of their head in the next moment, and Janey squeeze their eyes shut, ready to face death. 

It doesn’t come.

There’s a sudden commotion, people screaming and grunting. Janey gets knocked over, nudged hard by someone’s boot, falling face first into the ground with a loud smack. Their head spins, pulsing painfully at the new injury to their already bruised face. After taking a beat to recover, they rise back to their knees, a difficult feat with their hands still tied behind their back. They’re dizzy, but they shake it off. They tip their head forward and, after a few moments, manage to get the sack off their head, but their eyesight doesn’t come back. Smoke fills the room, making it hard for them to see. 

Glenn and Maggie aren’t next to them anymore, they notice. If they squint their eyes, they can see the space a few feet in front of them, and it’s now empty. There are a few bodies of the guards laying there, blood pooling around them, but no Glenn, and no Maggie. 

They don’t have any more time to process their new friends’ absence before gunshots ring out. _I need to get out of here_ **_now_ ** , they think. _I can look for them once I’m out._

With that thought in mind, they manage to rise from their knees to their feet, immediately running as soon as they are on two feet, their ankle pulsing painfully, but they ignore it. The smoke is starting to dissipate, so it’s easy for Janey to find the door to the building. They immediately rush out, feeling the cold evening air hit their face as soon as they step outside. 

It’s a relief to breathe in the fresh air when just moments ago they had thought they were dead, but there’s no time to appreciate it. They know they need to get out of Woodbury and try to find Glenn and Maggie. They look to their left and see the steel walls surrounding the gate that they had entered the town though. Immediately, they decide not to go that way, knowing it must still be guarded, especially with whatever was happening with the gunshots. They go left instead, running further into the town in the hopes that there will be a back entrance, an exit into the surrounding woods, something to help them get out of the town.

They run, bound hands bouncing into the small of their back with each step, but they press on. They can still hear screams and gunshots, getting more and more faint the more they run. Janey can only hope that none of the screams belong to Glenn and Maggie, that none of the gunshots are bullets entering their bodies. They hold onto the hope that if the couple had used the commotion to escape their execution, like Janey had, that the two would have the same idea as them, and go the same way. 

They push thoughts of the two out of their mind, trying to focus on their own escape. They would deal with everything else later. 

After running past a blur of buildings, they have to stop for a second to bend over and breathe in sharply, chest burning and ankle throbbing. When they recover, they look up, still panting, and notice a gated fence a few yards in front of them. Beyond it lies the expanse of the forest. Janey doesn’t want to return there, but will do so if that’s what will get them out of Woodbury.

They take a step towards the fence, ready to start running again, when-

“Stop right there!” a voice calls out.

Janey freezes in their tracks. It’s not the Governor, or Merle; it’s a woman’s voice. That fact still isn’t comforting. 

“Turn around,” the woman’s voice continues. “Slowly.”

They follow their instructions, too scared to do anything else. When they turn, they find themself staring into the face of a blonde woman, her hair tied back in a ponytail, gun pointed directly at Janey. For a split second, Janey’s mind is filled with images of another blonde woman, from another life, from Before. It’s gone in an instant, and they force themself to think back to the issue at hand.

The woman’s eyes widen when she takes in the sight before her and the hand around the gun falters slightly before holding steady again. It’s obvious that this woman had expected them to not look as young as they do and is shocked, wondering why someone like them would be running through Woodbury with their hands bound behind their back and their face covered in purple splotches that seem to glow in the moonlight. 

“Who are you?” the woman calls out, taking a step closer to Janey. They force themself to stay in place, knowing that one wrong move can be the difference between life and death. “Why are you here?”

Janey doesn’t want to answer, not knowing why the woman is asking, but decides to anyway, thinking it would be best not to anger the woman who is the only thing preventing their escape. “My name is Janey,” they say, voice steady. “I’m here because I was forced here by Merle and questioned by the Governor.”

The blonde’s face twitches at this. “I don’t believe that,” she says. 

“That’s not my problem,” they respond. “You asked me a question, and that’s the answer. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

The woman nods her head towards where Janey’s arms disappear behind their back. “Why were you tied up?”

“So I couldn’t escape.”

“And yet you did anyway.”

“Almost,” Janey says. “I just want to get out of this town, and find my friends. Please.”

Something shifts in the woman’s expression at their plea, and the hand holding the gun once again shakes before she, slowly, lowers it altogether. 

Janey stares at her in shocked silence for a few moments before the woman approaches them, slipping a knife out of her pocket. They take a step back, scared, but she continues to walk up to them and click the knife open, stepping behind them and using it to slice the rope that binds their hands together behind their back. They take another step back from the woman and shake their hands out to get the blood flowing again.

“Get out of here,” the blonde says, placing her gun in the holster on her belt. “Through the woods there.” She points. “If you keep going, you’ll find a road. Go, and never come back.”

Janey nods quickly, turning to start running again towards the fence, but deciding to turn back around again. The woman is already walking off, so they call her back with a quick, “Hey!” She turns, waiting. “Thank you.”

Her face softens at this before she schools her features again. “Get out of here, kid.”

They still don’t turn to leave, not yet. There is something they want to know before they do. “What’s your name?”

The blonde quirks her mouth in an almost smile. “Andrea.”

Janey nods in response, making a note to remember the name of the woman who had saved their life. “Thank you,” they repeat, before turning and running again, towards the woods, towards freedom, and, hopefully, towards Glenn and Maggie. 

**........**

They’re alone in the woods for a while, staying near Woodbury in the hopes of finding Glenn and Maggie, but far enough away to have time to run if the Governor’s men come looking for them. 

It’s quiet now, in an almost ominous way. It’s unsettling to Janey, even though they’ve gotten used to the silence while being on their own. They are still close to the town, but can no longer hear the cracking of gunfire or smell the smoky fumes of destruction. They don't want to think about what that might mean. 

They wait there for a while, convincing themself to stay in place for a couple of hours. They take up camp, sitting down in the dirt and leaning their back against a large tree. They don’t have any weapons to defend themself- they had left their gun in the car Merle had forced them into, and their knife had been taken from them, too. Because of this, they know they can’t stay too long. Someone from the town might come looking for their escaped prisoners and find them before Glenn and Maggie do. They know they can’t risk that, but they want to stay for as long as they can, just in case the couple does find them. 

They sit in that position for over an hour, keeping their mind blank and their gaze settled on the tree line that faces Woodbury. Their fingers tangle in the ripped seams of the hole in the left knee of their jeans; they twist a single, white strand of thread around their index finger, curling and uncurling it methodically, thinking that at any moment, Glenn and Maggie will appear from behind a tree and join them again. _They escaped, too_ , they assure themself, then remember to wipe any thoughts but survival from their mind. 

At that moment, they can hear a rustle of leaves from twenty feet away from them. They perk up, straightening their back and carefully rising to their feet from their curled up position They get their hopes up, thinking that Glenn and Maggie have finally found them, but it’s not them. 

A lone walker appears from behind a nearby tree, stumbling over its feet as it approaches. The skin is stretched taut across its emaciated face; a tear in the left cheek exposes its blackened teeth. It gnashes its jaws together as it staggers closer to where Janey is standing, unarmed and defenseless. 

They fall to their knees, hands scrabbling in the dirt for a way to protect themself. There’s nothing substantial around them- piles of leaves, a few twigs. They look around, frantically, knowing they only have seconds to find something to fight back with. When they’re about to lose all hope, they see it- a large rock, placed a few yards away from them. They scramble to their feet as the walker comes up right behind them, ducking out of its grasp just in time. They rush over and grab the rock in both hands, swinging around to face the decaying, reanimated corpse. 

The smell of rotting flesh fills their nostrils. It’s a blindingly nauseating scent, overpowering everything else. All they can hear is the endless growling coming from the walkers mouth as it gets closer and closer. It drowns out everything else, until the only thing in the world is this one walker and the broken shell of a person that Janey has become. 

“Come on!” they cry out, feeling their eyes start to sting with unshed tears. “Come on, you son of a bitch!” 

The walker comes more quickly now, hungry. As soon as it steps into their space, they swing their arms back and bring the rock down on its head with a sickening crunch. It crumples to the ground, but its teeth keep snapping together, trying to nip at Janey’s skin. 

They throw themself to their knees, straddling the walker’s chest as they bring the rock back over their own head and down again, smashing into its gruesome face. It’s still faintly growling, so they repeat the motion, then again, and again, beating the walker’s face to the point of excess. Blood flies up and splashes against their face, coating them in the thick, metallic substance, but they don’t let up for several more minutes, until there is nothing left of the walker’s head but a red mess, chunks of rotten skin and bone spread out across the foliage. 

They breathe in harshly, sitting back on their knees, still on top of the walker’s body. They let the bloodied rock fall from their now limp grasp, loudly crunching the leaves it lands on. It’s in this moment, in the newly quiet woods with blood dripping from their face, that the trauma they’ve just experienced catches up with them. The tears begin to rise up, boiling over and streaming hotly down their dirt streaked and bloodied face, leaving clean tracks in their wake. They lean down on their knees, placing their hands on the walker’s chest for support as they hunch over and let themself feel what they’ve been holding in for the entire day, the month, the whole 310 days. 

They are on their own again, as they had been only two days ago, but this time it’s different. They had experienced, for a brief moment, what it could be like to have a group again, to have a family for the first time since the world had ended. It was snatched away from them, by Merle and the Governor. Now, everything was back to how it was from the beginning: Janey, alone.

Maggie was right. _No one should be alone in this world._ But it was too late for that now. 

Janey knows that they have to keep moving, get far away from Woodbury, so they only give themself permission for a moment more to grieve what they have just lost. Then, they stand up from the walker’s body, wiping their hands off on their dirtied pants, and take off further into the woods, determined to keep surviving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finals season is almost over so hopefully i will be able to get back into writing and finish this fic over the break!!!
> 
> hope u enjoy! very excited to get things moving and progressing with the plot and finally introduce rosita :)


	4. IV. GHOST TOWN

_ The first person Janey killed was their best friend.  _

_ It was the beginning of the outbreak. Atlanta had just fallen, and the government had sent bombs their way, determined to stop the spread of the virus by killing every possibly infected. Janey was living there at the time, in a dingy apartment shared with a roommate, a few blocks from their university.  _

_ The roommate, Mary, was the best friend that Janey had ever had. They weren’t always that great at making, and maintaining, friendships, always forgotten almost soon after being introduced. Mary was different; she was sweet, and innocent, and wanted to make everyone around her feel loved and happy- and she did do that, for Janey especially. They had lived together for all three years of college, starting out as randomly assigned roommates their freshman year and blossoming into the kind of friends who can sit in silence, wrapped in each other's warmth, completely comfortable with one another without having to say a word. _

_ It was Mary who kept Janey in Atlanta when things started to go bad; kept them there far longer than they probably should’ve stayed, when they should’ve been trying to meet up with their family and go home.  _

_ Mary didn’t have a home to go back to. She had been orphaned in her home country, Sweden, and had come to Georgia once graduating high school, looking for a fresh start in a new place. She had crafted a wonderful new life for herself in Atlanta, and she didn’t want to leave; even when she was being forced out by dead men walking and explosions right outside their home, she held fast in her desire to stick it out and stay together.  _

_ Janey wanted to leave. As soon as the first news reports started popping up, showing the dead getting back up and attacking people, they had wanted to get out of the city and away from what was happening. The only reason they stayed was Mary, who was so sure that everything would be resolved in a few weeks, that the CDC would find a cure and the military would keep everyone safe in the meantime.  _

_ That didn’t happen.  _

_ Mary died on day 20.  _

_ They were boarded up in their apartment, where they had been for the past two weeks. They were running out of food, and Janey was running out of hope. Mary still held onto hers.  _

_ Janey peeked out one of their living room windows, pushing the curtain aside only slightly to see outside just for a moment before dropping it back and moving away from the window. “We should leave now,” they said to Mary, who was sitting on the other side of the room, back pressed against the wall with her knees up, arms wrapped around them. “Street looks clear. I have my gun, and you can get a knife. We can fight our way out of here.” _

_ The blonde woman just looked over at their friend with a frown. “You know how I feel about leaving.” _

_ “But we’re not safe here!” _

_ They’d had that argument a thousand times over those last few weeks.  _

_ “Yes we are!” Mary assured her friend.  _

_ It was an ironic statement as, at that moment, a pounding was heard at their door, which had been boarded up. The two friends looked at each other, and then at the door, which started to bulge with the pressure of too many people knocking against it.  _

_ Janey backed up at the sight of the boards holding the door shut starting to splinter. They stepped back to be next to Mary, who had risen to stand. They both watched in shocked silence as their protection began to shatter.  _

_ “Get a knife,” Janey said to Mary, then looked over at her. “Now.” _

_ Mary did, surprisingly, without argument. She was in and out of the kitchen in seconds, gripping the black handle of a carving knife in one hand as she grasped Janey’s fingers with her other. Janey squeezed her fingers in return before letting go to retrieve their gun, which they had taken to keeping tucked into the back of their jeans.  _

_ “We have to fight our way out of this,” Janey told their friend, who nodded but remained silent, obviously scared beyond belief. They know that the kind woman standing next to them has never even hurt a fly, much less another person, or something that resembles a person. They vowed to themself to do whatever it took to protect her.  _

_ At that moment, the boards gave in, snapped in half as the door burst open, slamming back against the wall. There were three infected who staggered in, all in varying stages of decay, but equally frightening. Janey gripped their gun in both hands, steadying themself before pulling the trigger and taking one down.  _

_ Mary stood next to them, frozen, knife slipping from her hand and clattering to the ground.  _

_ Janey didn’t have time to yell at her to pick it back up before another infected person was coming at them, mouth open wide, snarling. Janey shot that one through its mouth and watched it fall before hearing Mary scream behind them.  _

_ They turned around instantly, seeing the third infected come straight at Mary, jaws chomping, eager to bite her. Janey quickly took that one down, too, watching blood burst through the wound and splatter over Mary’s shocked face.  _

_ They quickly raced over to their friend and pulled her into a hug, wrapping their arms tightly around her until they felt her reciprocate. They only had time to stand there for a moment, but it was enough. _

_ Janey pulled back from the hug. “It’s okay,” they assure Mary, running their hands over her shoulders, pushing her long, blonde hair back. “Were you bit?” _

_ Their friend couldn’t bring herself to vocalize her answer, but she shook her head frantically. Janey breathed a sigh of relief before pulling away and tucking their gun back into their waistband. They bend down, grabbing Mary’s forgotten knife, which they then handed to her.  _

_ “Let’s go,” they said, grabbing the bag next to the door that they’d had packed for days. “Come on.” They clasp Mary’s hand in hers and pull her along behind them as they leave the place that has been their sanctuary not just since the beginning of the outbreak, but for years before.  _

_ They raced down the streets of the city together, Janey forcing Mary to run faster as they noticed a large herd of infected start to form behind them.  _

_ They had been running without stopping for what felt like hours when it happened.  _

_ Mary tripped over an infected person that had been laying in the street, its legs removed from the rest of its body, and her hand wrenched from Janey’s as she fell onto her knees on the pavement. Before the blonde had time to get back up, the infected’s teeth had found purchase in her ankle, biting down hard.  _

_ She let out a bloodcurdling scream, further gaining the attention of the herd that could be seen at the end of the street. Janey’s heart stopped at the sight of their friend’s foot being ruined by the infected’s mouth. Without hesitation, they lifted their gun and fired into its head, killing it instantly. Its head flopped to the side, teeth releasing their grip on Mary’s ankle, but the damage had already been done.  _

_ Janey tucked their gun away again and rushed to Mary’s side, bending over to try to pull her back up into a standing position, but she resisted.  _

_ “No!” Janey yelled, continuing to try without success. “No!” _

_ “It’s okay,” Mary said, voice gentle and calming. “It’s too late for me, but you can still get out of this. I wanted to die with this city, anyway.” _

_ “I can’t leave you!” Janey was crying then, sobbing, warm tears covering their face. “I can get you out of here, we can- I don’t know, but, Mary, please,” they begged, still holding onto her forearm and trying to pull her up.  _

_ “You have to,” Mary argued, accent thick now with the well of emotion rising up. “You have to go. You have to  _ **_live_ ** _ , Janey, for me.” _

_ “I…” they trailed off, finally admitting to themself what they knew from the moment Mary had screamed. They had to leave her there, to die, if they wanted to live. It wasn’t fair. “Mary…” _

_ “It’s okay,” the blonde cut them off, taking Janey’s hand off her arm and squeezing it in hers before letting go and allowing herself to fall back onto the ground. “I love you.” _

_ “I love you too,” they sobbed out, straightening up. They looked out at the horizon before them and saw that the infected people were still coming, forming a line that spread out across the entire length of the street, approaching at a surprisingly fast pace. They were only a few hundred yards away. Janey was out of time.  _

_ Mary noticed this, too. “Please, Janey,” she started to beg, reaching her hand out to clasp theirs again, squeezing it as she said, “You have to kill me.” _

_ “W-what?” they stuttered out, alternating their gaze between their friend laying, injured, in the street and the approaching crowd of infected people, hungry for their flesh. “I can’t do that!” _

_ The blonde smiled at her, gently. “Yes you can. Please. They’ll tear me apart, you’ve seen it; I don’t want to go like that.” _

_ Janey didn’t answer, refusing to look at their friend and deciding to focus on the danger before them. The infected were getting ever closer, now less than a hundred yards away. They had to make a decision, and fast.  _

_ “Please,” Mary repeated, starting to cry now.  _

_ They looked at their friend now, watching the tears leak out and fall onto the pavement beside their head. They looked up at the herd, then back down again. They had to do this, for their friend. “Okay,” they finally agreed, squeezing Mary’s hand. “Okay.” _

_ They kneeled on the ground beside their friend’s head, still keeping a tight grip on one of her hands. With the other, they reached for the gun that rested against the small of their back, tucked into their waistband. They pulled it out and in front of themself, holding it in their palm and looking at it for a moment before wrapping their fingers around it.  _

_ Janey’s dad had thought that everyone should know how to defend themselves, and so had taught them from a young age how to use a multitude of weapons, guns included. They were a pretty good shot, but they had never had to use that skill for anything such as this.  _

_ “Hey,” Mary said, bringing their attention back to her as the sounds of the growling became louder. “It’s okay. Just do it. It’ll be okay.  _ **_You’ll_ ** _ be okay _ **_._ ** _ ” _

_ Janey took a deep breath and let their finger rest against the trigger as they raised the gun to rest on Mary’s left temple, safety off. They made eye contact with their treasured friend, letting tears slip from their eyes. They looked up again, seeing that it was now or never if they wanted time to escape from the infected crowd that was fast approaching.  _

_ They looked back down into Mary’s eyes, who nodded once more. “It’s okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes and resting her head more firmly on the pavement.  _

_ Janey closed their eyes too, steadying the gun against Mary’s temple, and then pressed the trigger, squeezing their best friend’s hand tightly as the shot rang out loudly against the rising growls of the infected. They sobbed at the sound, keeping their eyes closed for another moment before opening them once more. They couldn’t bring themself to look at Mary’s lifeless face, so they looked instead at their still joined hands. They ran their thumb across the back of Mary’s hand, crying out a soft “I’m so sorry,” before closing their eyes again briefly and opening them in the next instant.  _

_ There was no time to grieve. They had to leave, if they wanted to survive.  _

_ They stood up shakily, grabbing Mary's fallen knife in one of their hands as they did. They reached around with other, tucking their gun back into their pants, then took off running, and never stopped.  _

**……**

It takes a few weeks after Woodbury for Janey’s external injuries to heal. The internal ones take a little longer, if they ever do. 

It’s not until day 400 that they can bring themself to venture out of the woods to scavenge for food in a nearby town. 

It’s a ghost town, thankfully; the population was so small Before that there’s barely any walkers. Janey takes them out with ease, using the black-handled cleaver they find in a ransacked home goods store. It’s not as good as their old knife, but their fingers squeezing around the familiar weight of the wooden handle is comforting all the same. 

They haven’t been able to find a gun over the months in the woods, but this trip to town changes that. There’s a small gun shop that’s been mostly cleaned out already, but they get lucky and find a lone shotgun and a couple cases of bullets. They strap the shotgun to themself, swinging it around to rest against their back, and shove the boxes of ammunition into their backpack, a new one they find in town, their old one and its supplies all having been lost in the scuffle with Merle.

They don’t stay long, mind constantly on what had happened the last time they went into a town, when they had gained and lost a family in a short time. After filling their bag with as much food and supplies as they can carry, they throw the straps around both shoulders and slip back into the comforting loneliness of the woods.

After the first venture, they feel more comfortable slipping out of the woods every so often, always choosing a new town to scavenge in and never staying long. They make it three months this way before they come into contact with another person again. 

It’s day 500. They step out from the treeline cautiously, as they always do, chancing a quick glance around the run down Piggly Wiggly before starting to approach the entrance. It’s easy to slip inside, using their cleaver to break the chain off the door with a quiet  _ clang _ . After a short glance over their shoulder, the town still seemingly barren, they enter the store, letting the heavy doors slam softly behind them. 

They move further into the store, being sure to keep their shotgun raised as they walk past each aisle, checking for any movement, whether it be from someone dead or alive. As they reach the back of the store, exploring the thawed out frozen foods section, they hear the now-familiar sounds of walkers. They approach the noise apprehensively, but soon realize that it’s coming from behind a locked steel door. They breathe a sigh of relief, now sure that the only walkers in the store are the ones trapped in the freezer, and throw the strap of their shotgun over one shoulder, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. 

They start to explore the aisles more carefully now, hoping to find even just a few things that are still edible. Though the door had been chained, it’s obvious that whoever was here before everything ended had cleared out as much as they could before locking up. The shelves are incredibly bare, but they do manage to find a few packages of vienna sausages and some canned vegetables. They stack everything inside their backpack and swing the straps back over their shoulders, anxious to get out of the store and away from the smell of rotted food. 

As they approach the entrance, prepared to make a quick dash back into the surrounding woods, they hear it; a loud crashing noise, followed by growling, quickly increasing in volume. 

They immediately grab the strap of their shotgun, taking into their hands once again as they slowly open the door. Immediately, they’re greeted by the sight of a young man running down the street, several walkers flanking him. He’s running as fast as he can, coming quite close to the Piggly Wiggly that Janey is standing in the entrance of.

They don’t want to expose themself to the walkers, or to the first alive person that they’ve seen in six months, but they can’t bring themself to leave the kid to be killed.  _ I have to help him _ , they think; there are no longer any legal or religious systems in place to dictate people’s actions, but Janey has always believed in doing what they know to be right without regard for the personal impact of that decision. With that reminder in mind, they open the door further and slink out into the street

The man suddenly stops running, turning to try to fight off the walkers that are fast approaching him. 

“Hey!” Janey calls out, but their voice comes out as a harsh whisper, voice weak from months of disuse. They shake their head, clearing their throat forcefully, before trying again. “HEY!” It comes out louder this time, loud enough to gain the attention of three of the dead. 

The walkers change directions suddenly, starting towards Janey and leaving the man to fight off the remaining two. The man points his pistol up and has to shoot a few times to take down just one, his shaking hands affecting his aim. 

Janey has to look away from him to focus on their own enemies at that moment, quickly taking out two of the walkers before running out of bullets. It was foolish of them to not make sure their gun was fully loaded before coming into town, but they had grown used to quick and easy trips and weren’t prepared to face this situation today. 

They swing their now useless shotgun back over their shoulder, not having enough time to grab one of the boxes of ammunition from their bag before the third walker comes at them, closer now. Its lower jaw hangs down grotesquely from its face, swinging around rapidly as it opens its mouth wide to bite. 

Janey raises their cleaver in their right hand, ready to slash it across the walker’s face when a shot rings out and a sudden, excruciating pain explodes in their left leg. They fall to the ground, flat on their back, writhing in pain and unsure what caused it. They don’t have time to find out at that point, as the walker reaches Janey and falls to the ground beside them, aiming its teeth for their neck. 

They arch their back, trying to push it off with their hands at its shoulders, leg still burning. The cleaver lays on the pavement a few feet from them, having dropped it when they felt the first burst of pain. The growls are right in their ear now, and they know they can’t keep it from their flesh for too much longer. 

Suddenly, another shout sounds out, closer now, causing their ears to ring for a few moments and drowning out the growling noises. Another shot is heard, and another, and then the walker on top of them falls, facing landing in their neck, completely dead. 

They pause, taking in a few deep breaths through their nose and closing their eyes to try to clear their mind from thoughts of their pain and other times they’ve been in this position. After a few moments, they push the walker’s corpse off their body, rolling it to lay next to them. Then they slowly start to sit up, biting their lip so harshly that they’re sure they’re leaving teeth marks embedded in their skin. Once sitting, they can finally look at the source of their agony; they roll the new bloodied pant leg of their jeans up slowly until they reveal a small, painful hole a few inches above their left ankle.  _ I got shot _ , they realize numbly. 

They look up, blinking blearily through unshed tears, and find their eyes falling on the boy from before. He’s laying on the pavement a few feet away, already facing them. He’s got tears rolling down his cheeks and staining the pavement; there’s a large, fresh bite on his neck, dripping blood onto his stained yellow shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly cries out, noticing that Janey has made eye contact with him. “I didn’t mean to shoot you, I- I was aiming for the biter and I…” He trails off into sobs, raising his hands to cover his face. 

He’s got light colored hair, grown to his shoulders and matted with dirt. Janey is struck by a sudden reminder of their brother, a long forgotten remnant of their past, from Before. They haven’t thought of him since the beginning, figuring it was easier to assume that he and the rest of their family were all dead than to believe in the alternatives. However, this young boy’s appearance is so strikingly similar to that of Andrew that they’re thrown from reality for a brief instant before they shake themself out of it. 

“It’s okay,” Janey reassures him through clenched teeth as they tear off a part of the sleeve of the large flannel they’re wearing, tying it over the wound to stop the bleeding. Thankfully, it had gone clean through; they don’t know much about gunshot wounds, but they do know that that’s usually a good thing. They tighten the knot over the bleeding mess and try to bring themself to a stand, biting their lip again to keep from letting out a scream. 

It takes a few tries, but they manage to stand carefully, avoiding putting pressure on their injured leg. They ensure that their backpack and shotgun are both still strapped to their shoulders before they limp over to the boy, coming to a stop beside him. 

“You can’t help me,” he says before Janey can even attempt to do exactly that, voice choked with emotion. “It’s too late for me.”

They know that’s true, so they stay silent, just staring at him. 

“You t-tried to help me,” he stutters out, letting out a wince of pain before continuing. “W-why would you do that?”

“Because you needed my help,” Janey responds simply. 

The boy nods at this like it makes perfect sense for them to risk their life to help a stranger, a stranger who shot them and almost got them killed only to end up the one dying himself. He looks away from them, looking up at the blue. It’s mid-day; the sun is high up in the sky and blindingly bright. 

“I can’t leave you here,” Janey tells the boy, not wanting to let him die a painful death and then turn into one of the reanimated. 

“It’s okay,” the boy tells them, looking back at them again. “I know what you have to do now. You can do it.”

He looks like Andrew, but he’s more like Mary than Janey can handle at the moment. 

They look around their feet and notice the boy’s gun resting not far from them. They limp over to it carefully, picking it up and coming back over. They open up the clip, checking that there are still a couple bullets left in it before pulling it back and aiming at the boy’s head. He closes his eyes, more tears streaming out. 

“I’m sorry,” Janey tells him, biting their lip and closing their own eyes as they pull the trigger, loading the bullet directly into the blond boy’s brain. 

The shot that rings out is loud in the new silence, and they know they have to get a move on in case there are more walkers nearby. They limp back to their fallen cleaver and grip the handle tightly in their free hand, knuckles turning white at the pressure, and slowly make their way back into the woods. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favorite chapter i've written so far ahhhh 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed getting to see a lil glimpse into janey's past! there will be more flashbacks in the coming chapters so you'll see about each of the four people janey killed before chapter 1!
> 
> also im posting this chapter even tho im still writing chapter 6 alsdkfj hoping getting this up will motivate me to get further in my writing. i've gone too deep into planning that i've put off actually writing, but on the bright side i know where i wanna go with this fic! there is lots more to come, so stay tuned :)


	5. V. NO ONE IS WHOLLY INNOCENT

Janey has been following behind the small group of walkers for over a mile. They don’t have the energy or the bullets to take on that many at one time, so they keep themself behind them, hoping to ditch them when they reach the road. 

They’ve been sticking close to the treeline for a few days, staying where they can see cars on the side of the road. They’re hoping to find supplies in them, new bandages to patch their leg wound up better, but they haven’t had much luck so far and having to limp around the woods has slowed them down.

They’re starting to think it might actually be easier for them to just attempt to take out the walkers when they suddenly start to hear voices nearby. From their position near the edge of the treeline, they can hear two people having a quiet argument. They can’t hear what’s being said, but know that if they can hear them, so can the walkers. 

Sure enough, the walkers turn their heads slowly to the side and change directions, coming out of the treeline to approach the two people. Janey limps through the grass, keeping themself hidden behind one of the trees as they peek out to see the scene before them.

There’s a man and a woman both fighting the walkers now, stabbing them with knives. Janey wants to leave, to let the two strangers deal with the walkers so they can continue on their way, but then they notice that the man keeps stumbling around, almost tripping over himself. One glance at the woman tells Janey that she’s too busy with her own walkers to help the man. It only takes a split second to make the decision then.

Janey comes out from behind their tree, limping over to the walker that’s approaching the man, who has fallen to the ground, unmoving. They come up behind the walker and slice their cleaver through its neck, separating the head from the torso. It falls to the ground, teeth still gnashing together. Janey brings the cleaver down again, this time right through the brain, silencing it. 

They look back to the man then and notice that he continues to lay there unconscious. They go to step back into the forest, hoping to escape before the woman can speak to them, but after one more glance down to the man’s face they freeze. 

“Who are you?” the woman asks, stepping up to stand next to Janey. She has dark hair that’s tied back into a short ponytail, a large flannel hanging off her frame. 

Janey ignores her, falling to their knees in the grass beside the man’s unconscious body and ignoring the throbbing pang in their leg as they do so. “Glenn?” they ask, their voice barely above a whisper. It takes an effort to force the word out of their dry throat. It’s been a few days since they’ve had drinkable water.

The man laying before them has dark purple splotches under his eyes, face streaked with dirt and blood. They bring their hands up to Glenn’s face and they’re shaking as they push a few strands of dark hair off his forehead. He looks hurt, and tired, but Janey’s heart soars all the same because, despite it all, he’s alive. _He’s alive._

“Hey, what are you doing?” the woman asks, stepping even closer to them, sounding cautious. “Is he okay? Is he still breathing?”

She’s distracted from questioning Janey further by the loud sound of a truck pulling up on the stretch of road next to them. They look up, too, bringing their gaze from the woman yelling “Hope you’re enjoying the show, assholes!” to the truck it’s directed at. 

Three of the truck’s four doors open, a person stepping out of each. They walk around to stand in front of it, staring at the scene before them. 

The one on the end, farthest from Janey, is tall, dark hair styled into a mullet. He’s wearing a black vest over a dirtied white shirt and is holding a walkie talkie. There’s no emotion in his face as he takes in sight of the brunette woman standing beside Janey and Glenn who are both on the ground

Next to him is a hulking figure, tall and muscular. He’s got red hair, cut in a military style, and an impressive mustache to match. He’s wearing a white tank top, and the muscles of his arms ripple as he crosses them over his chest. 

At the end, standing nearest to where Janey is still kneeled on the ground, is a woman. She’s shorter than the two men, but still tall, and slender. She’s wearing shorts that approach mid thigh, guns strapped to her belt on each hip. Her shirt is cropped, another one over it that’s tied together at the ends, her belly button exposed. Her dark hair is tied back in a long ponytail, a rusty brown cap placed on top of her head, and she purses her lips as she takes in the three strangers before her. 

The red-haired man breaks the dumbfounded silence. He looks down at the corpses that now litter the street before looking back up. “What else you got?” he asks with a chuckle. 

Janey looks away from the newcomers, bringing their attention back to a still unconscious Glenn. They run their fingers over his face, swiping a thumb under one of his eyes, before glancing back up. “Can you help him?” They have to clear their throat a few times before the words come out, and even then it comes out only slightly above a whisper. “Please.” 

The brunette in the flannel turns away from the other three, facing Janey again. “You know him?” she asks. “You know Glenn?”

Janey just nods in response. 

“Are you from the prison?” she continues. 

They shake their head. 

“Is Glenn okay?”

They nod again. “I think so. He’s just unconscious. What _happened_?”

“I…” she trails off, then looks again at the three newcomers who are still staring at them. “Who are you guys?”

The red-head steps up, reaching out a hand for the brunette to shake. “I’m Sergeant Abraham Ford. These are my associates, Rosita Espinosa,” he nods over to the woman behind him, “and Dr. Eugene Porter.” He jabs a thumb at the man with the mullet. “We’re on our way to D.C. and thought y’all might need some help.”

The brunette stares at him for a moment before saying, “I’m Tara. The man on the ground, that’s Glenn.” She pauses, looking at Janey before turning back. “Not sure who the girl is.”

“I’m not a girl,” Janey says, repeating a phrase they are forced to say all too often. They force themself to a stand, wincing when they have to put pressure on their left leg again. “My name is Janey. I met Glenn a few months ago… We got separated; thought he was dead. Turns out, he isn’t. We can’t stay out here in the open when he’s passed out like this. Will you help us?”

The man looks to his woman _associate_ for a second before looking back to Janey and Tara. “You can ride in the bed,” he declares simply. Then he turns back to the truck, pushing Eugene ahead of him. 

Janey makes eye contact with Tara and then looks back to Glenn. “Can you help me lift him?” they ask. 

Tara just nods and moves to grab him by the legs, Janey placing their hands under his arms to lift him that way. They wince as they stand back up, struggling under his weight. Suddenly, another pair of hands joins the frame, coming to rest under Glenn’s back. Janey looks over and locks eyes with the other woman, Rosita. She looks back at them, but doesn’t say anything.

The three of them start walking over to the truck’s large bed, gently laying Glenn inside when they reach it. Tara jumps up into it first and then reaches a hand down to Janey who clasps it in theirs, using it as support to get into the bed. They feel soft hands on their back for a second, helping them up, but the pressure is only there for a brief moment before it’s gone. When Janey is finally settled into the bed, they turn around to look back, but Rosita has already walked away, getting back into the front passenger seat of the truck. 

The two settle in the truck bed, leaning against the back windshield, legs out in front of them. Janey settles Glenn’s head into their lap, brushing his disarrayed hair off his forehead again, and leans their head back against the window, letting out a sigh. They close their eyes for a brief moment, keeping their hand softly running through Glenn’s hair, as the truck rumbles to a start and peels off down the road. 

Tara’s voice cuts through the noise of the engine. “He saved my life,” she says, looking at Janey. They make eye contact. “Glenn. At the prison, everything was destroyed and there were walkers everywhere… He could’ve left me there. He should have. But he let me keep my gun and he created a distraction to get the walkers away from us. And we got out. Together. Because of him.”

They stare at Tara in silence for a moment, observing her. There’s something about the brunette that screams remorse, for something Janey doesn’t know, but doesn’t really need to. They can tell that this woman cares about Glenn, maybe in the same way they do. It doesn’t matter to them what she might’ve done to think she doesn't deserve the kind man saving her life; no one is wholly innocent in this new world, and Janey can’t judge someone for what they do to survive.

“Glenn saved my life, too,” they finally say. “Not in the same way, but he did. Him and- and Maggie….” they trail off here, heart hurting at the realization that something really bad must have happened if the two were separated, wondering if Maggie was already dead even before this, if she’d died in Woodbury like Janey had thought. “Do you know what happened?” they ask suddenly. “Why are the two of you out here?”

Tara seems hesitant to respond, but does anyway. “There was an attack at the prison, where Glenn and his people were staying. I was with this other group, and they-” she cuts herself off, shaking her head as if to clear something from her thoughts before pushing on. “This man I was with, he told us that they were bad people… that we had to take the prison from them if we wanted to survive. But he was wrong!” She suddenly clarifies, looking worriedly at Janey, as if anticipating a bad reaction. They only blink back at her. “I realized that he was wrong, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone, so I hid. And then Glenn found me.”

Janey looks away from the woman then and back down to the man in their lap as they reply. “We’ve all made bad choices,” they tell Tara, then peek over at her. “Some more than others. Doesn’t make us bad people. Glenn trusts you; that’s good enough for me.”

Tara nods gratefully at them, and then the two settle back against the windshield, letting the roar of the engine fill the silence. 

**…...**

They’ve been on the road for three hours when Glenn finally wakes up. He jolts awake violently, sitting up so fast from Janey’s lap that he almost bumps heads with them. 

“It’s okay!” Tara tells him, grabbing a canteen of water and starting to twist off the cap. “Here, have some water.”

Glenn ignores her, pushing the canteen away when she tries to hand it to him. “What happened?” he asks, looking around. Then his eyes catch on Janey and widen in surprise. “Janey?” he asks, incredulous. “You’re _alive_? I thought-”

“Me, too,” Janey tells him, and grabs his hand from where it’s resting on the floor of the truck bed. “It’s okay. Is Maggie…" they trail off, bile filling their mouth at the thought of finishing their question.

"She's not dead," Glenn responds, vehement. He looks at Tara first, then Janey. "She's _not_." 

Janey can see his desperate need to believe it. "Okay," they reassure him, running their thumb across the back of his hand. "She's alive," they repeat. "And we're gonna find her." 

The man looks around again then, taking note of their surroundings as they blur past them. “Did we pass a bus?” he suddenly asks, frantic. He looks at both Tara and Janey in turn, tightening his hold on the latter’s hand almost painfully. “ _Did we pass a bus_?”

Tara and Janey share a look before the former answers simply, “Yes. A few hours ago.”

“What did you see?”

She’s silent, and so is Janey. Neither want to explain the mess they saw left behind on the prison’s bus, blood coating the windows and growls penetrating the air.

Their lack of response is enough of an answer for Glenn, and his face falls. He looks away from them, eyes starting to glisten. In the next second his expression hardens, determined again, and he lets go of Janey’s hand to reach over and start pounding on the back window. 

“Stop the truck!” he yells as he continues to knock. 

The man driving, Abraham, brings his middle finger up in view of the window for a second before bringing the hand back to the wheel. Glenn rolls his eyes at this and keeps banging on the window, demanding that he stops the truck. Janey joins him in pounding on the window, hoping to annoy the red-headed man enough that he’ll pull over. 

Tara joins the two, yelling out, “Hey, numbnuts! Stop the truck!”

After a few moments of no success, Glenn looks around the truck bed, eyes landing on his large orange backpack and the gun he’d been carrying. He reaches over and grabs the gun, holding it by the end as he drives the butt into the window. He repeats the process multiple times until the glass cracks. As it does, the truck comes to a sudden stop, jostling the three passengers in the bed. They take a moment to recover from the sudden stop, and then stand up, grabbing their things and coming to the end of the bed. 

Glenn and Tara jump down easily, but Janey takes a few seconds longer to get down to the ground, trying unsuccessfully to land with all the pressure on their right leg. They bite their lip painfully against the throbbing agony, but say nothing as they shoulder the straps of their backpack and shotgun back over themself and start to limp after Glenn and Tara.

The truck doors open and Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene spill out, the former two quickly catching up to the trio walking down the road. 

“Now hold up a minute,” Abraham says, coming to a stop in front of Glenn, stopping him in his tracks for a minute. “Where the hell are you goin’?”

The dark haired man ignores him, moving to walk around him, but the red-head continues to follow. Janey falls back behind Tara, unable to keep up with Glenn’s fast pace. 

“I don’t know what your lady friends told you about us, but we are on a time-sensitive mission to get Eugene to D.C.” He finally makes it back in front of Glenn, forcing him to stop again. Janey rolls their eyes at the '"lady" comment, but figures now is not the time to argue as the man continues to speak. “So you need to get the hell back in the truck so we can get a move on.”

“I have to go,” Glenn says simply, and goes to walk around him again but is stopped by the man’s hand on his chest. 

“I don’t know how much attention you’ve been payin’ to the world we’re livin’ in,” the man says to him, “but unless you want to end up another dead-alive prick, the only way to survive out here is by findin’ like-minded comrades and sticking together like wet on water. If you leave now, you won’t survive a night out there, not by yourself.”

“I’ll take my chances. I need to find my wife.”

Glenn starts to walk off again, but Abraham stops him with his next words. “I’m gonna have to insist that you stay with us. We need people; believe it or not, the fate of the entire damn human race depends on it.”

“What are you talking about?” It’s Janey who asks, having to raise their voice to be heard given how far away they are from most of the group. Eugene has remained standing right next to the truck, and they are only a few feet closer to the rest than he is, Rosita standing right next to them. She keeps looking over at them with a curious glance that they ignore. 

“Eugene here is a scientist,” Abraham says, looking over at all of them one by one. “And he knows exactly what caused all this mess.”

Glenn takes a minute to process that statement, and then says, “Okay. So what happened, then?”

“It’s classified,” Eugene says simply, then turns to look out at the wheat fields that surround them on both sides. They all ignore him and turn back to listen to Abraham. 

“Eugene’s been talkin’ on a satellite phone with some schmucks in D.C.,” the red-haired man starts. “Lost the signal a couple’a weeks ago, been trying to make our way there ever since. We saw how you handled those corpses back there,” he looks at Glenn, Tara, and Janey in turn. “We want you on our team.”

Glenn looks at him for only a second before responding, “Sorry, but I have to go.”

He starts to walk away again, Tara quickly catching up to him. The others hang back as Janey tries to limp faster to catch up to the pair.

“I can get you back to that bus,” Tara tells Glenn, then flashes him her arm that’s covered in ink. “I wrote down every turn. I know how to get us back there.”

“Hold on.” It’s Rosita who speaks, gaining everyone’s attention. She points at Janey, who has finally caught up to Tara and Glenn. “Your friend here is hurt. She’s been limping this whole time.”

“They,” Janey corrects simply. Rosita gives them a questioning look, but they push on, saying, “And I’m fine.” 

“What happened to you?” Tara asks then, now noticing that a messily wrapped bandage peeks out from the bottom of their cuffed jeans, stained with dirt and blood. 

Janey looks down to where Tara’s gaze is pointed and then looks back up to lock eyes with her. “Got shot,” they answer flippantly, then move their gaze over the shocked faces of the group as they continue. “Couple days ago. Went clean through. Some kid was aiming for a biter and got me instead. Then they got him.” 

“I-” Glenn tries to say. 

“Think it might be infected,” they push on, refusing to let themself think of how the kid’s death had affected them. “I found this bandage in an abandoned car along the road. I’ve been camping on the edge of the woods the past few days, moving further up the road, trying to find another car to scavenge medical supplies in. Haven’t been too lucky.” At the concerned glances from some of the group, they make eye contact with Glenn, rushing to reassure, “But I’m _fine_ . I want to help you find Maggie. I _have_ to.”

The two maintain their stare for a few moments, Janey trying to convince him with their eyes that they are serious about this, that they wouldn’t let their injury get in the way of finding Maggie. 

“Are you sure?” Glenn asks, keeping his eyes on them. 

They just nod in response. After a beat, Glenn nods back and continues to walk down the road, this time at a slower pace.

“That’s gonna be a waste of time!” Abraham calls out then, moving to catch up with them, but the three ignore him. "There is zero chance you will find your wife alive again. Just come get back in the truck with us and do something meaningful with your life. She’s gone, but you don’t need to die, too.”

Glenn slows to a stop and lets his large, orange backpack slip off his shoulders, falling to the ground. He stands still for a moment, then turns around and quickly whips his arm back before smashing his fist into Abraham’s face. The red-haired man’s head snaps to the side and he falls to the ground, not expecting the attack. 

“She’s alive. And I’m gonna find her.” The dark haired man then grabs his bag again and turns around to start walking off when he’s suddenly tackled by the other man. The two fall to the ground together, locked in a choking embrace. 

“Hey, stop!” Janey yells, trying to rush over to the pair to break up the fight, but they’re ignored. 

“Let him go, Abraham!” Rosita screams at him to no avail. 

Abraham has Glenn in a chokehold, keeping a tight grip on his neck as Tara tries to push him off, when a shot rings out in the clearing, then another, and another. They all turn around in shock, Abraham letting go of Glenn and jumping to his feet. They find the source of the gunshot easily- it’s Eugene, still over by the truck, shooting blindly at a small crowd of walkers. 

All five of them run as quickly as they can back over to the truck, Janey straining the entire way but pushing through the pain to help the others. With their combined effort, they’re able to take out the group of walkers in no time. 

The truck, however, cannot be saved. 

Abraham snatches the gun from Eugene, who recoils out of fear, and walks back over to the truck, noticing the leaking gas spilling onto the pavement in dark splotches. He crouches down, watching the gas continue to drip for a moment, before saying, “Son of a dick.”

He stays in his crouched position for another minute before straightening back up and turning to the group. “Well,” he starts. “Guess we’re stickin’ together after all.”

He opens the bed to the truck and climbs up, beginning to grab things and toss them down to Eugene, when Rosita speaks up. 

“Wait,” she says. “Before we leave, Janey needs to rewrap that wound.” She points to their leg, where the dirtied bandage still stands out. “It’ll just slow us down later if we don’t.”

Janey wants to protest, not wanting to take up any of the group's medical supplies, but one stern look from the brunette woman silences them. 

“Alright,” Abraham tells the woman. “Bandage it up and then we’ll hit the road.”

**……**

Janey sits on the edge of the truck bed, letting their now unbandaged left leg dangle off it, hovering a few feet from the ground. Rosita has one of her hands gripped on the back of their calf as she digs through the pack of medical supplies to find something to use as disinfectant and a clean bandage. She’s already given them an antibiotic to rid off possible infection, and now she finds a bit of alcohol and pours that on the irritated wound, causing Janey to wince but cover it up quickly, not wanting this woman to see them weak. They don’t want to admit it, but the beautiful woman intimidates them. It doesn’t help that she’s a good few inches taller than them, their head barely coming up to her chin. 

Rosita’s busying herself delicately wrapping a new, clean bandage around Janey’s lower leg when it suddenly occurs to her to ask, “Did you know him?”

They’re confused by the question, distracted by their thoughts. “Know who?”

“The kid,” she clarifies, finishing up with wrapping the wound. “The one who shot you. You knew him?”

“No.” They’re quiet for a moment after speaking, not sure where to go from here. Rosita stays in her standing position near their leg, leaning against the truck and keeping her hand gripped on their calf even though she’s done bandaging their wound. Their breath hitches a little when she slides her hand a little further up their calf as she repositions herself, but they ignore it, shaking their head slightly to clear it. 

“Before, when you said you weren’t a girl,” Rosita starts again, deciding to change their line of questioning when they see how tense Janey has become. “What did you mean? How old are you?”

They sigh, not looking forward to this conversation. “I’m 22. But, that wasn’t what I meant when I said that I’m not a girl. What I mean is- Well, I’m non-binary. I don’t really identify with any gender.”

“Oh.” She sounds confused, and her grip slackens on their calf. 

“Sorry,” Janey apologizes, then feels weird for doing so. They haven’t done anything wrong. “I know it’s not really something that was ever talked about, Before. Basically I just… I’m not a woman, or a girl, or a lady. My pronouns are they and them, not she and her.”

“So who are you then?” Rosita asks, finally taking her hand completely off their leg, but remains leaning on the truck beside them. 

“I’m…” they pause for a second. “I’m just Janey.”

The brunette nods like that’s all the answer she needs. Then, she reaches out a hand for them to grasp. As they do, she uses her strength to pull them from the truck bed, placing her free hand on their waist to help them settle on the ground. Once they’re both standing, she says, “‘Just Janey’ is good enough for me.”

Then the two walk off together, Rosita making sure to keep a slower pace for Janey’s benefit, and catch up to where the rest of the group is a little ways down the road, waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> glenn is back and rosita has finally been introduced! i'm so excited to finally get to write her and develop her dynamic with janey. also i was so happy to finally have janey have a straight up conversation about their identity with someone else and ofc it had to be rosita. there'll be more gender convos in the coming chapters as well bc as many of us know, coming out never really ends. 
> 
> sorry this is so late (tho like no one is reading this so i dont really have to keep to a schedule LMAO). got caught up in the holidays and working on art projects to give as presents, then i've been starting on my law school apps so it's been a busy couple of weeks. i'm hoping to pick up more with my writing in the new year. chapter 6 is already done and it is looong (it's 16 pages) so i'm excited to publish that hopefully next week!! 
> 
> happy new year <3


	6. VI. WE'RE NOT DEAD YET

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am nowhere near done with chapter 7 but decided to post this chapter now anyway because i really enjoyed writing it and it's been a while since i put up ch 5 and i've had this one done for about a month now. this chapter is suuper long (a whopping 16 pages!!) and i'm just very happy with how it turned out and the direction this fic is going :)
> 
> trigger warning for this chapter for sexual assault, though it's nothing very graphic. if you wish to avoid this entirely, just skip the italicized part in the beginning and i'll put a small summary of it in the end notes so you know the gist of it.

_ The second person Janey ever killed was a stranger; they never even knew the man’s name.  _

_ It wasn’t long after they had gotten out of Atlanta. They stumbled upon a group that set up camp not too far outside of the city limits. In those early days, many had still believed that rescue was coming, that the military would come to find them if they stayed near the cities, just like Mary had. Janey knew better, but felt it was best not to destroy their hope- and they knew these people couldn’t be persuaded with words.  _

_ The group, composed of six adults and two small children, welcomed them with open arms, offering up a spare tent for them. The group members all introduced themselves, but Janey didn't take note of their names, appreciating their kindness but knowing they would soon be moving on from them to get further away from the city. It wasn't safe for them to be with a group that hadn't accepted their new way of life, that wasn't prepared to protect themselves. Janey had loved Mary with all their heart, but it had only taken a few days of being on their own after her death to realize that someone like her was never meant to live in this new world, and sticking with people like that was too dangerous for them.  _

_ They stayed with the group for two days; they might’ve tricked themself into staying even longer if the peaceful haven they had found for themselves outside of Atlanta wasn’t destroyed- not by walkers, but by people. A horde of men attacked the group on Janey’s second night there, sneaking up on them in the middle of the night. One of the camp’s members, a kind man with a soft smile, had been put on watch, but no one was expecting the enemy to be the living. They were too trusting, too willing to see the good in everyone. The man on watch never even saw the shot to the head coming.  _

_ The gunshot ringing out across the campsite had woken Janey up immediately, jolting them from the reprieve that sleep offered, and it was followed by the haunting screams of others within the camp. Before they could even slide out of their sleeping bag and exit the tent to help, the zipper of the entrance was undone quickly from the outside. They didn’t even have time to react before a man they had never seen before was crawling inside, lips curling into a cruel smile when he saw the occupant of the tent.  _

_ Janey bolted into action immediately, scrambling to their knees on top of the sleeping bag as they tried to reach their gun that was set atop their backpack in the corner of the tent. The man was faster than them, crawling further inside the tent and pushing Janey back off their knees before they could reach their weapon. They fell on their back, but kept fighting the man off, trying to push him away as he crawled over them. They scratched at the man’s face with one hand while they reached for the gun with the other. It was almost within reach, but they weren’t able to grab it before the man on top of them pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, swiping the blade out and glowering menacingly at them. The sight stopped them dead in their tracks, eyes widening with fear.  _

_ “Don’t move, darlin’,” the man said, breath fanning over their face as he placed the switchblade tight against Janey’s throat, causing a few droplets of blood to spring up from the delicate skin of their neck. The man’s free hand went up to grab hold of Janey’s wrists, grip tight as he forced their arms flat on the ground above their head.  _

_ They stopped struggling after a beat, letting their body sink heavily into the scratchy vinyl floor of the tent. It was better to let him think that he had won than to keep struggling and risk further injury from the blade to their throat.  _

_ The man grinned at their apparent cooperation, shockingly white teeth on full display. He slowly removed the knife from their throat, but kept his grip tight on their wrists. “I love it when they give in,” he said, dragging the switchblade lightly down their side. They flinched slightly away from it, then forced themself to relax. He reached the hem of their shirt with the blade, allowing it to press against the skin of their abdomen enough to draw blood.  _

_ Janey gritted their teeth at the pain as the man pressed the blade even harder into their skin, blood oozing from the wound, but they remained silent. It would definitely scar, but they had more important things to be concerned about.  _

_ “We’re gonna have some fun,” the man said, seeing Janey refusing to show fear. “”M gonna enjoy breaking you.” _

_ Janey closed their eyes at his words, more scared than they had ever been in their life. They weren’t sure how they were going to get out of it, but knew they would go out fighting if they had to. They flinched again as the switchblade was removed from their abdomen and opened their eyes to see the man wipe the blood off of it on his pants, swiping both sides of the blade across the denim before it was clean.  _

_ He smiled at them when he noticed they were looking at him again. He brought the blade back to Janey’s body, slipping it under the hem of their shirt and slowly dragging it up their body. He released his grip on their wrists, giving them a sharp warning look and seeming satisfied when they just closed their eyes and tried to remain calm. The man let his face drop into their neck, focusing on bruising the skin there with his mouth. That was when they saw their opening. _

_ While the man was distracted with slowly raising Janey’s shirt up with the blade of his knife, his head still buried in the crook of their neck, they let their newly free arms fall down to their side, one now stretching out slowly across the length of the tent to try to reach the gun. Their fingers scrambled across the straps of their backpack, finally curling around the barrel of the gun just as the man got their shirt high enough to expose their sports bra.  _

_ The man on top of them remained oblivious to their success. He pulled back to get a better look at their face as he said “You’re gonna enjoy this, darlin’” with a crooked smile.  _

_ Janey, speaking calmly, said, “Yeah. I am,” and then brought the gun up to the man’s temple and pulled the trigger before he had time to react.  _

_ The man fell instantly, grip loosening on the switchblade and body dropping as a dead weight onto Janey. Blood spurted out from the wound, splattering their face and still exposed bra with red. They immediately went to push him off, letting out a panicky “Get off, get off me!”, voice desperate, bordering on panic. They had to struggle for a few moments before they could finally roll him off of them and onto the floor of the tent beside them.  _

_ They let themself have a few minutes to process what had just happened- and what had almost happened.  _ **_I’ve just killed someone_ ** _ , they thought.  _ **_Someone who wasn’t already dying._ ** _ Then, they have to reassure themself.  _ **_He was going to hurt me. I had to do it_ ** _. They allowed a few tears to slip out then, curling themself into a tight ball, shirt still up to their armpits. Around them, they could hear more gunshots ringing out in the newly silent field, then the faint screams disappearing altogether. After a few beats, they uncurled themself, sitting up and slipping their shirt back down, pressing their hand on top of it where the man had cut them. Luckily, it had stopped bleeding, and there was nothing to do but wait for it to scab over. Janey took a deep breath then and brought the hand from their stomach up to wipe the blood from their face, only succeeding in smearing it more but not having the capacity to care at that moment.  _

_ “Hey, man,” they heard a gruff voice not far from their tent say. They stilled immediately, holding their breath for fear of being discovered. “Joe said to pack it up if you’re done here, he wants us to get back to camp.” _

_ A second male voice follows. “Alrigh’. Place is full of biters now anyhow.” _

_ Janey could hear them shuffle off further away from the tent, then heard the first voice say, faintly, “Claimed.”  _

_ “Fuck you, man,” the other one replies, and then the campgrounds are silent again. _

_ Janey waited for several minutes after the men left, taking shallow breaths as they tried to avoid looking at the body on the floor beside them. Once they heard no more voices, they rose to their knees slowly, holstering their gun and sliding the straps of their backpack on. After taking one more cursory glance around the tent, they decided to take the fallen switchblade as well. They closed the blade and placed it in their pocket before crawling out of the still unzipped entrance and rising to a shaky stand. _

_ Outside the tent, they could see one of the biters that the men had mentioned, the outline of a small figure walking sluggishly towards them. It was growling, gnashing its teeth together. It takes them a second to realize that it’s one of the camp’s children, newly turned. They quickly looked around the rest of the camp and noticed it was devoid of other people, live or dead.  _ **_How is this possible?_ ** _ they wondered, panicked.  _ **_There aren’t any biters in camp._ **

_ They resigned themself to question it later, taking the switchblade from their pocket and stabbing it through the child’s eye as it approached. They removed it quickly, watching the small body fall limply to the ground before wiping the blade on their pant leg. As they looked around one last time, they noticed a couple of bodies spread out across the campgrounds. They walked slowly over to one of them, noticing that it was the man who had been on watch. They closed their eyes for a moment, allowed themself to feel grief for these innocent people who had been killed; allowed themself to feel guilt for being the only one to live through the night. They opened them again, and then squatted down beside the man’s body. They reached up and used their fingers, covered in specks of dry blood, to close his eyes. Then they reached over and grabbed his fallen gun, keeping it in hand as they walked off into the woods, in the opposite direction of where the men’s voices had gone.  _

**……**

They haven’t been walking for long, but there hasn’t been a second of silence since Janey and Rosita caught up to the group. 

"So, Janey," Abraham says after only a few minutes into the walk, mouth curling around the syllables of their name. "That a nickname for somethin'?" 

"Yes," they respond simply, continuing to look ahead as they walk, shotgun gripped tightly in both hands. They aren’t used to this much chatter after being on their own for so long.

"So what's it short for?" The red haired man presses. 

"Perhaps it is not wise to bother a lady who is armed to the teeth," Eugene says, gesturing towards the several weapons that are strapped to their body.

"Not a lady," Janey says. "I’m non-binary. And I'm not gonna shoot a man for askin' a question. Not gonna answer, though." 

“You’re non-what?” Abraham questions, brow furrowing. 

Before Janey can even open their mouth to speak, Eugene answers. “Non-binary refers to a person who identifies outside of the male-female gender binary.” At the shocked looks he receives from everyone else, he continues, indignant, “I  _ am _ a scientist.”

The rest of the group has stopped to see what the commotion was about and listen to Eugene’s explanation, staring at Janey with confusion, save for Rosita. The brunette was giving them an encouraging look that drove them to clarify their identity for everyone. 

“Look,” they finally say, stopping in their tracks. They feel awkward at all of this attention, wanting to clear up any confusion so they can move on and hopefully have their identity understood and respected. “You know how there were certain things that existed before, that we all believed in and followed- and how those things don’t exist in this new world? Well that’s how gender has sort of always been for me.” 

It’s Glenn who breaks the following silence. “So what does that mean, exactly?”

Janey huffs out a sigh but answers the question as they start to walk again, everyone else following suit. “For me, it means that I don’t like being called a woman, or a lady, or anything gendered like that. Or ‘she’. You can refer to me using they or them, or not at all. Does that make sense?” They refuse to look at everyone as they ask this, keeping their eyes focused on the empty stretch of road before them as they walk slowly, dragging the weight of their limp leg behind them.  _ Shit, I wish I had crutches _ , they think, wincing. 

“Yes,” Tara tries to reassure them. They look over at her when she speaks and share a small smile. “It makes perfect sense.”

“Okay,” they respond, and then the group falls quiet. Though Janey had been craving that less than five minutes ago, it now feels awkward given the revelation they’ve just made. They’ve always felt awkward talking about their identity. It was never something that people readily understood, and they always felt put on the spot when they had to explain it, knowing that a lot of people didn’t care enough to try to understand and respect it anyway.

Janey hurries their steps to be beside Glenn who is now back at the head of the group, wanting to assure themself that he isn’t going to treat them any differently. When he sends a smile over in their direction, the tension in their chest releases immediately, a weight gone from their shoulders. 

“So,” they start, looking forward again. “Maggie. What happened? Tara told me some of it, but I want to hear how it was for you.” When Glenn doesn’t answer right away, they continue. “Only if you want to tell it. I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

“No,” he answers, pinching his lips together. “It wasn’t. I was… I was really sick for a while, before the Governor came.”

They have to interrupt him now. “Wait, the  _ Governor _ ?  _ He’s _ the one that attacked your group?”

“Yeah. He wanted to take it for his group and he wanted revenge for what we did to Woodbury, after we escaped.”

Janey takes that in, letting this new knowledge sink in before they continue. “Hold on. Start over. What happened in Woodbury? I wasn’t sure… I don’t know how you and Maggie got out.”

“Our family came for us,” he answers, then quickly looks back over at them as he continues. “With the smoke bombs they threw in, they didn’t see you after they grabbed us. We wanted to go back, we tried, but we couldn’t find you. How did you get out?”

“I just ran. This woman found me, I thought I was going to be dead for sure,” they say, remembering Andrea and the mercy she showed them. “But she just cut me loose and let me go.”

“But… why didn’t you ever come to the prison?” Glenn asks. “You knew where it was.”

Janey can’t look him in the eyes as they answer, “I thought you were dead. You and Maggie. I didn’t see anyone after I got out of Woodbury. I waited, for a while. But it was dark, and I was hurt, and I… I was so sure that I wouldn’t see either of you again.”

Glenn doesn’t reply for a moment, and then Janey feels pressure on their hand. They look up, dragging their gaze to their hands, now intertwined with Glenn’s. They’re suddenly, unexpectedly, reminded of Maggie and that moment in the backseat of the car on the way to Woodbury, when she had held their hand and promised that everything would be okay. They’re hit with a renewed rush of desire to find her, soon, and alive. 

“We’re not dead,” Glenn says strongly, squeezing their fingers. “Not yet.”

“Damn right,” they tell him, then let their grip on his hand slacken until he lets go, aware of the rest of the group’s eyes on them and not wanting to send the wrong message. “Tell me more about what happened at the prison.”

And he does, explaining as they walk how there was some sort of viral outbreak, how people died and and how he almost did, too; how he had only just recovered when the Governor had shown up, demanding that everyone leave and let him have the prison. He tells Janey how they had all been so sure that the Governor wouldn’t come back after they went in and destroyed the town, taking in the innocent people who hadn’t known what the man was truly like. He explains how those who were sick were just being released from their quarantine, having been given medicine that some of their people had scavenged for them, when it happened.

“That’s when the explosions started,” he says, eyes holding a far away look, mind on that moment. “Maggie wanted me to get on the bus with the others, but I couldn’t leave without her. I  _ couldn’t _ .” He looks over at Janey as if he has to convince them that he had good reason to not listen to her. They already know he would never leave her behind, and know that they would do the same if they had someone they loved as much as the man loved Maggie. He continues after they nod at him reassuringly. “But I didn’t find her, and then it was too late and everyone was gone. And now… I  _ have _ to find her.  _ I have to _ .”

They reach out to grab Glenn’s hand again then, no longer caring anymore that the others can see. They can all come to their own conclusions about their relationship; Janey knows the truth is just that Glenn feels a lot like a brother and a best friend and something more precious, something they can’t put a name to, rolled into one. They haven’t felt this comfortable with another person since Mary died, and they won’t let people’s assumptions ruin that. “You  _ will  _ find her,” they reassure him, squeezing his hand. “We will. I’ve missed her,” they add with a smile. 

“She’s going to be so happy to see you,” he tells them, smiling back. 

**……**

They walk until late in the evening before they can finally convince Glenn to stop for the night and begin their search for Maggie at first light. Janey is thankful for the break; they hadn’t complained at all, but their injury is starting to hurt a lot, having gotten progressively worse throughout the day as they kept putting pressure on it. Spending the night off their feet will definitely help.

They find a hilly spot of grass beside train tracks, deciding to stay the night there and follow the tracks in the morning. Though Glenn protests the idea of sleeping, wanting to stay on watch all night in case Maggie stumbles upon them, he’s out as soon as he’s on the ground, head cushioned on his orange backpack.

Janey volunteers to take first watch, and Rosita joins them, Abraham wanting one of his own to be on guard to watch after Eugene. Janey doesn’t take offense, and actually doesn’t mind the opportunity to talk more with the woman. 

They watch as Abraham forces Eugene down to the ground, handing him one of their packs to rest his head on before he drops down beside him. Tara does similarly beside Glenn, curling up into a ball and falling asleep almost as quickly as he had. Janey waits until they’re all settled before they gesture to Rosita, pointing to a tree a few feet from the group. The brunette nods, taking one last look at the four on the ground before the two head over to the tree. 

They sink to the ground, Janey’s legs stretching out in front of them while Rosita raises hers to use her knees as an armrest, crossed arms resting on her kneecaps. They sit in silence for a while, allowing some quiet for those trying to fall asleep.

It’s Rosita who starts conversation between the two. 

“How’s your leg?”

Janey looks over to her, not expecting her voice in the silence just yet. The brunette quirks an eyebrow and gestures to their injured leg. 

“Oh, um, it’s fine,” they tell her, lying. It is  _ definitely _ hurting like a bitch, and they are  _ definitely  _ going to spend tomorrow regretting pushing themself as hard as today, but it’s not like they’re going to tell the tough woman next to them about that. 

She can tell anyway. She just raises her eyebrows at them. 

“Okay, fine,” they give. “It fucking hurts. But we don’t have the luxury to complain anymore, so.”

“That’s stupid,” Rosita responds strongly. “We can still complain about shit. Might not get to do anything about it, but we still get to feel things.”

They’re taken aback by how strongly the brunette feels about this, but really, they know they shouldn’t feel that surprised. All day, Rosita has been the one trying to make sure that they give themself time to feel in order to heal. Not only with their injury- though she had been the one trying to make sure they didn’t strain themself too hard- but also with their emotions. She had been the one to ask about the boy from the grocery store, who had wanted to provide them with an outlet to process that if they were ready. It makes sense that she would want people to know that even though the world has gone to shit and life has become more about surviving than living, you still get to  _ feel _ , even when those feelings can hurt or be dangerous. Being human isn’t a luxury in the After- it’s all anyone has left.

They’re not sure how to reply without crying from all the emotions they’ve been feeling the past few days, so they settle for joking instead. “Alright then, in that case I am going to complain about my leg very thoroughly right now with lots of details and you’re just going to have to listen.”

Rosita cracks a smile at that, letting out a quiet laugh. “I would actually love for you to do that,” she says in a serious tone. 

“I absolutely will not be doing that.” Janey laughs now, too, and what a wild feeling it is to laugh in the face of everything. 

The two fall into companionable silence now, letting their eyes drift back to the sleeping members of their group. Janey lets their eyes focus on Glenn for a beat, feeling relieved at the rise and downfall of his chest, especially after how they had found him only that morning. 

Rosita tilts her head back to lean against the tree more fully, letting one of her legs drop from its raised position to stretch out in the grass. The toe of Janey’s boot nudges against her ankle, but she doesn’t move it away. 

"Earlier, Abraham asked you what Janey was short for," she starts after another long stretch of silence, turning her body fully now to look at them

"Yeah, I remember." Their voice takes on a teasing lilt. 

"So…" the dark haired woman presses. "What's it short for? If you want to tell me."

Janey looks over at her, analyzing. She's all long limbs and sharp lines, red lips and wide eyes. Rosita is the kind of pretty that a person almost can't stand to look at for too long.

The brunette meets their gaze, unwavering. They can see that she's too curious about their name to back out now.

“Promise not to tell anyone? It’s not that it’s, like, off limits or anything, it’s just sort of embarrassing.” 

Rosita nods. “Promise.”

Janey breaks their gaze now, looking ahead and sighing before speaking. "She was a very Southern woman, my Mama. Very traditional. She believed that young ladies-" they pause to roll their eyes at this, "-should have a proper name. So she named me… Sara-Jane." 

There's a moment of silence as Rosita processes this, and then-

" _ Sara-Jane _ ?" she questions, voice dripping with restrained laughter.

Janey finally looks back over at her, cheeks flushed. "It's okay. You can laugh." Rosita does, letting out a quiet mass of giggles now that she has permission to do so. "It's such a ridiculous name, for a proper Southern Belle. And that's just not me." 

The dark haired woman takes a few moments to gather herself, letting out a few last giggles before she turns to Janey with a smile. "No," she says softly, taking in her companion. "It's not you." 

The two let the moment linger for a beat before they both look away, feeling warm.

"So," Janey continues, clearing their throat. "I went away to school and reinvented myself as Janey and played my part when I was home. Then when the world ended… I decided I didn't have to keep up a false identity anymore. I can be whoever I want, whoever I need, to be." 

Rosita keeps her eyes fixed on Janey, who is looking ahead. "It suits you," she says after a brief moment of silence. "Janey. I like it." 

Their gazes meet again and they both bite back smiles. They both look away after a beat, looking back over to the four bodies curled up comfortably in the grass a few feet away.

“Speaking of Abraham,” they start, then stop; they don’t want to offend the woman. 

Rosita looks at them with a curious expression. “What about him?”

Janey breathes in through their nose sharply, then decides to just say what they’re thinking. “Are the two of you… like, together?”

“Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

“Oh.”

It’s quiet again for a few moments, and then- “Why do you ask?” Rosita wonders, sounding guarded. 

“It’s just…” they trail off for a moment. “He seems more like a boss than a boyfriend. But, I mean-” they rush to continue as the woman's expression tightens. “It’s really none of my business.”

“You’re right,” she says coolly, then stands up and starts to walk over to the group. “It is none of your damn business.”

“Sorry I asked,” they mumble, but Rosita is already gone. They stand up too, much more slowly, and head over to where the woman had gone. She’s already woken up Abraham to take over her shift, and she goes to lay down now, avoiding looking at Janey as they walk by. They ignore this and choose to focus on waking Tara, who gets up with a groggy “Wassit?” and is fully awake after Janey tells them it’s her shift on watch. 

They lay down in the spot Tara vacated, curling up next to Glenn who is still sound asleep. After making sure their weapons are stored within reach, the handgun stuffed under the pack they’re using as a pillow, the shotgun laid out next to them, and the cleaver beside it, they finally settle down to sleep. They stare at Rosita’s back, watching until her tense shoulders finally relax as she falls asleep, and regret putting themself in her business, even if they thought they were helping. They’re starting to like Rosita, and the two men who accompany her. They hope that they all decide to stick around with them even after they find Maggie. 

With that thought, Janey finally lets themself fall into a deep slumber, all the excitement of the past few days catching up with them. 

They’re woken up the next morning by Glenn finally waking from his sleep, jolting to a stand when he realizes it’s not exactly first light like they had promised. He starts cursing, trying to quickly gather his things. Janey looks around and notices the others, excluding Abraham and Tara, now rising from sleep too at the noise the man is making. They let out a sigh before they drag themself up from the ground into a standing position. They grab their backpack and swing the straps onto their shoulders, holstering their weapons and keeping the shotgun gripped firmly in hand, ready for anything. Beside them, Glenn has finally gathered himself and all of his things and is now shouldering the large orange backpack. 

“What the shit is all the ruckus for?” Abraham questions, coming around the corner from where he’d ducked out of sight, presumably to relieve himself.

“We need to get going,” Glenn says urgently. “It’s already late.”

“Alright,” the red-haired man says placatingly, apparently not wanting to start another fight with the other man yet. “Give us a second to wake up and get our shit together, then we’ll go.”

He starts to do just that, Rosita joining him in grabbing their things and locating their weapons. Eugene is still sitting on the ground, looking half-awake. Once they’re all ready to go, Abraham grabs Eugene by the arm and hauls him up to a standing position, then pushes him forwards to stand beside Glenn and Janey. 

Tara walks over from where she’d still been sitting by the tree a few feet away, coming to a stop beside the group. “We ready to go?” she asks brightly. 

“You are way too cheery for someone who got as much sleep as you did,” Janey says to her as the group begins to walk along the train tracks, Glenn leading the way with Abraham bringing up the rear. They had been right the night before about their injury- it was definitely hurting worse now because of all the walking, but they were still going to push themself to keep up. 

Tara just shrugs in response. “We’re gonna find Maggie today,” she says confidently. Glenn, only slightly ahead of the pair, flashes a grateful smile at the woman. “I can feel it.”

Janey just smiles over at her, feeling her good mood rub off on them. They had been unsure how this second day of travel would go, especially with the awkwardness between them and Rosita after the night before. It’s refreshing to see someone keep such an optimistic outlook after all they had been through. 

As much as they want to keep walking with the cheery woman and be near Glenn, their leg starts to ache even more and they have to slow down in their walk. Rosita passes them but doesn’t make eye contact, something that they try to ignore but can’t help feeling a pang in their chest at the thought of her being mad at them. There isn’t much they can do or say at the moment to fix it, especially with everyone awake and within earshot, but they resolve to say something to her when they get a chance. They hate when people are mad at them. 

They end up not too far in front of Eugene, who has been walking silently. Abraham is only a few feet behind him, keeping a vigilant watch on the man and the surrounding area, ready to drop everything to save him at a moment’s notice. Janey can’t blame the dark haired man for not wanting to have a conversation with him, but wonders why he hadn’t caught up with the rest of the group instead. 

After walking this way for a while, they feel eyes on their back. They shake it off for a while, thinking it must just be Abraham and his cursory glances, but then realize that the gaze never seems to leave them. They turn around, noticing Eugene staring at them. They stop walking for a moment, letting the man catch up to them. He approaches them timidly and then keeps pace with them when they begin to walk again, this time right next to him.

“I was not staring at you with nefarious intentions,” he assures them, unable to look at them. “I was merely interested in seeing how you were walking on your injured leg.”

Janey smiles at him, touched by his concern. “It hurts today, but I’m okay. And it’s fine, Eugene. I know I’m not your type.” They look pointedly over to Rosita and Tara who are a little ways ahead of them and out of earshot. 

“No offense meant,” Eugene tells them, able to bring himself to meet their eyes now that he knows they aren’t angry. 

“Oh, none taken,” they reply with a shrug. “While I am a big fan of the mullet, you’re not exactly my type either.” They look over in the direction of the brunette women again, eyebrows raised in a gesturing manner. 

“I might have guessed as much.” 

Janey just laughs at his response, leaning over to bump their shoulder lightly with his. He stumbles a little, not expecting the playfulness, but rights himself quickly. 

“I thought you would be walking with Glenn again today,” the man says hesitantly, looking over at them with a cautiously curious glance. “Was there an altercation between the two of you?”

They furrow their brow as they meet his confused gaze with one of their own. “No? We didn’t fight or anything. My leg is  _ killing  _ me though, I can’t really keep up with his pace today. And besides-” they nudge him again, this time with an elbow. He’s still not ready for it, and looks surprised, but he doesn’t stumble this time. “I don’t mind walking with you.”

Eugene still looks confused, and says as much. 

“What are you confused about?” Janey asks, not understanding why he’s still looking at them with such a cautious expression. 

“I am unsure why someone of your caliber would want to walk back here with me.”

They blink, once then twice in quick succession.  _ What? _ “My  _ caliber? _ What are you talking about?”

“You are a valued member of your group.” He says it like it explains everything. 

“So are you,” they tell him, adamant. 

“I am not as oblivious to my place here as I may appear to be.”

“What do you mean?” 

“If I were not providing classified information to stop this pandemic, my presence here would not be necessary,” he says simply. 

They squint over at him. “No one’s presence is  _ necessary  _ anywhere. We’re all here because we want to be, not because we have to be.”

“That may be true for you, Tara, and Glenn,” he says. “But if I were not needed to cure this thing, Abraham and Rosita would be hightailing it out of here and leaving me behind.”

Janey’s expression softens now, finally understanding. Eugene doesn’t see why they would want to talk to him without an ulterior motive. He’s always been used for his knowledge, for his intelligence; it’s become the only thing he believes he has to offer. When someone wants to just be around him for  _ who he is _ , he can’t see why that would be. 

“It’s not an imposition, Eugene,” they tell him firmly. “I can’t speak for Abraham and Rosita, but for me? You’re a part of this group like the rest of us, and I just want to get to know you better. Now stop the damn pity party and tell me what the hell your favorite color is.”

He’s silent for a minute, then looks down at his feet as he finally answers, “I do rather enjoy the color green.”

“Yes!” Janey says with a smile. “Green is great. My hair was green a couple years ago, actually.”

Eugene smiles timidly at them. “That must have been quite a sight.”

They laugh again. “Oh, yeah. Got me lots of stares on campus. That was before I settled on orange.”

The man brings his eyes up to look at their hair, as if just now noticing that it is actually orange. “Would orange happen to be your favorite color?” he asks. 

“Astute observation, Dr. Eugene.” They reach out a hand to push him slightly, and it’s a testament to how much more comfortable he’s gotten with them that he doesn’t even flinch this time, is ready for it. That makes them smile. 

At that moment, Glenn lets out a shout. Janey’s head snaps to the front of the group, their eyes finding the man a good twenty feet ahead of them. He and Tara are staring at a wooden post along the side of the tracks. They rush over as fast as they can, throwing a hand back to beckon Eugene to catch up with them. 

When they reach Glenn and Tara, they see what’s gotten Glenn’s attention. Written on the sign in what looks to be red paint are the words “GLENN- GO TO TERMINUS. -MAGGIE, SASHA, BOB.” Glenn’s breath hitches as he traces a finger across the spelling of Maggie’s name. It’s dry, they notice, but it could still mean that they’re only a few hours behind Maggie. 

Glenn smiles widely at the sign, looking over at Tara and Janey with relief in his eyes. Then, he takes off further down the tracks, forcing the others to catch up with him. 

**…...**

It’s nearing noon, and they’ve been walking along the tracks for hours. Janey’s leg is protesting aggressively at all the pressure they’ve been putting on it, but they still ignore it and push on, Eugene keeping pace with them the whole way. It’s Abraham that demands a reprieve from all the walking once they reach a watchtower that hangs over the tracks. 

“We need to rest for a bit,” he calls out to Glenn who is still walking several feet ahead of them. The man turns around at Abraham’s voice, looking incredulous at the rest of them. 

“It’s barely noon!” He protests. “We’ll lose too much daylight if we stop now.”

“We need to rest,” Rosita argues back, putting her hands on her hips. “We’ll get burned out if we don’t take a break, not to mention that Janey needs to stay off their leg for a bit.”

Janey looks over at the woman, surprised to be mentioned in her concern after the tension between them from the night before. It’s also the first time they’ve heard anyone in the group refer to them by the correct pronouns, and it makes them feel warm to hear it. The woman ignores their gaze though, keeping her eyes narrowed at Glenn. 

“Look,” Abraham tells Glenn. “My first priority’s Eugene. I can’t have him gettin’ hurt because we’re all too tired. We’re stoppin’ here for a few hours.”

Janey notices that Eugene looks uncomfortable at this statement, at all the attention it brings to how useless he feels he is. Before they can say anything, a walker’s growling is heard from the tower. It approaches the edge, getting closer to it before it falls over it, crashing down into the grass. Abraham reacts quickly, pushing Eugene out of the way who knocks Tara to the ground in the scuffle.

Janey comes over to the fallen walker, pulling their cleaver out of their belt to stab it into the dead thing’s head, just to make sure. They pull it back out, wiping it on their pants before putting it back in its holder. They look up to notice that Tara is still on the ground, sitting up and holding one leg over the other. She runs her hand over her ankle, wincing at the pressure.  _ Oh, shit _ , they think, knowing that she’s definitely sprained it. 

“Are you okay?” Glenn asks her, coming over to her side and holding a hand for her to take. She does, and he helps her rise to her feet. She bites her lip painfully as she stands on two feet, but doesn’t say anything, just nodding at him.

“Are you sure?” Janey asks, knowing better than anyone how much it hurts to continue to walk on an injury. 

“Yeah,” Tara finally says, letting go of Glenn’s hand and shaking the leg of her injured ankle. “Just gotta shake it out. But I’m good to keep going.”

Glenn looks at her for a minute longer before saying, “Okay. Let’s go.” Then he starts to walk off again, Janey and Tara now both limping slightly as they follow behind him.

Rosita protests this, pointing to Tara as she says, “She will do anything you say because she thinks she owes you! Janey, too.”

Their head snaps up at this, feeling flushed at Rosita wanting to defend them but also wanting to argue for Glenn’s sake. They aren’t going along with whatever he says because they think they  _ owe  _ him. They’re doing it because they want to help him like he helped them all those months ago, because they want to see Maggie again too, almost as much as he does. They don’t get a chance to protest though before Glenn is proposing a compromise. 

“If we leave right now, I’ll give Eugene my riot gear. That good?” he raises an eyebrow at Abraham. 

The red-head takes a moment to process this. He makes eye contact with Rosita, who seems to want to keep arguing, but he just looks away and back to Glenn, nodding. He grabs Eugene, bringing him back up from the ground and once again pushing him forward. Janey frowns at this, but feels it’s best not to say anything to cause any more arguments amongst the group. 

They notice Rosita glaring at Abraham’s back as he walks off. She looks over then, feeling their gaze on her. They maintain eye contact for a few beats before the woman looks away first, hurrying to catch up to the group and walk further up with Glenn and Tara. Janey falls back into step beside Eugene, enjoying his company even in the quiet. 

They don’t walk for long before they come across another message from Maggie, this time painted across the side of a small white building. It’s the same message as before, but this one is different for one very important reason.

“It’s fresh,” Glenn says, running his hand over Maggie’s name, fingers coming away red. “They must be close!” 

They’re forced into a speed walk, then, Janey struggling to keep up but pushing forward. Up ahead, they can see Tara doing the same, but neither want to ask Glenn to stop for even a minute, knowing that they are so close to finding Maggie. 

They do get to stop for a moment when they come to the entrance of a tunnel, pausing before going in to figure out the best route. 

“They must’ve gone right through,” Glenn tells the group, looking around at all of them. “We can catch up to them.”

It’s Abraham who finds a reason to protest this. “I don’t feel comfortable putting Eugene in that position,” he says. “We can go around.”

“That’ll take too long!” Glenn responds. “I have to find her, today.”

“Looks like we’re at a crossroads then.” The red-head takes the bag off his shoulders, setting it on the ground and squatting next to it. He unzips it and reaches in, bringing out two cans. He reseals the bag and shoulders it again as he comes to a stand, then steps closer to hand the cans to Glenn. 

The man takes them, but protests anyway. “We can’t take your food!”

Abraham waves him off. “You’re gonna need it. Go find your wife.”

He reaches out a hand to place it on the other man’s shoulder, grasping it firmly. Glenn nods back at him, his words meaning a lot considering just yesterday he had said that Maggie must be dead already. 

“Thank you,” Glenn says sincerely, then steps back to stand beside Tara and Janey again. The latter takes the cans from him and shoves them into their own pack to carry.

Janey finds their eyes lingering on Rosita after shouldering their bag again. She stands behind the two men of her group, her arms crossed across her chest, one hip cocked as she watches the scene before her. They make eye contact again, but this time neither one of them looks away for a while. Finally, Rosita gives them a small smile, which they return immediately. Their attention is taken off the woman when Eugene clears his throat. 

“I wish you all luck in your endeavors,” he says, nodding to each of the three in turn. ”I have to say you are seriously hot, Tara,” he adds. 

Janey lets out a quiet laugh at the look on Tara’s face while Glenn looks away to hide his smile. 

“Yeah... I like girls,” Tara responds awkwardly. 

Eugene pauses for a second and then says, “I am aware,” though everyone can tell that he had not, in fact, been aware of that. 

“Take care, Eugene,” Janey says, smiling at him. “Good luck in D.C.” The last part is for all three of them. 

They all nod, looking at each other one last time before the two groups turn and head in opposite directions. 

“You guys ready for this?” Glenn asks, eyeing both Tara and Janey. 

They both look at each other and then back to Glenn, nodding. 

“Let’s go find your wife,” Tara says. 

The man nods, smiling at both of them gratefully before they head into the tunnel. 

Janey grabs a flashlight from their backpack, the other two doing the same. They turn them on, flashing the lights ahead of them into the dark abyss of the tunnel. Even with the flashlights lighting the way, they still can’t see more than a few feet in front of themselves, a dangerous situation to be in in the world they live in. Luckily, they don’t come across trouble for a while. They realize why when they come across what appears to have been a cave in, rocks and debris piled high in the middle of the tunnel. 

“It’s Maggie!” Glenn tells the other two excitedly. “She must’ve done this!” 

“Done what, exactly?” Janey asks, looking around, but the man doesn’t answer as he climbs up to stand atop the rocks. 

He points his flashlight down below and then lets out a low “Shit.”

“What is it?” Tara asks, then climbs up cautiously to stand next to him. Janey follows, and sees what has brought the curse from Glenn.

There’s a group of walkers loitering in the tunnel, at least 20 or so that they can see. They’ve begun to notice the trio, clambering to come closer to the rock pile and reach for their feet. They all jump back, climbing back down to be on the other side of the rocks. 

“There’s too many for us to fight off,” Janey says. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’ll distract them,” Glenn says, sounding sure of himself. “I’ll put my flashlight over there and then we can climb over on this side.”

His two companions are a little dubious at this plan, but agree to go along with it anyway. Tara and Janey turn their flashlights off as Glenn sets his up along the rocks. He picks up a few of the smaller rock pieces and throws them at the wall of the tunnel near the flashlight. The noise works to attract the walkers. The trio peak over the rockpile and see that they’re all crowding around the flashlight. 

“Okay,” Glenn whispers. “I’ll go over first and then help you both over.”

They nod and watch as he disappears over the rocks. Then, Janey steps up to climb over, left leg protesting the entire time. Glenn’s hand comes up to grab theirs, helping them find purchase on the ground on the other side. They stumble slightly, but find their balance quickly and go to stand beside Glenn as he brings his hand up again to help Tara over. 

Tara’s not as lucky as Janey was- her sprained ankle forces her to rebalance herself, and her foot accidentally nudges a piece of the rockpile loose. It crashes to the ground, trapping her foot underneath it. She lets out a pained groan. 

A few feet away, the walkers who had been clambering after Glenn’s flashlight turn their heads at the noise. They see the three standing there, frozen in shock, and begin to stumble over to them. 

This jolts them into action, Janey and Glenn immediately trying to get Tara loose. The walkers get too close before they can make much progress, and Glenn is left to try to lift the large rock on his own as Janey uses their handgun to fight off the dead. 

“Just leave!” Tara tells them, pleading. “You can go find Maggie!”

“No!” Glenn yells back. “We don’t leave people behind.”

He gives up on trying to get the woman loose and turns around, coming to stand beside Janey as they fight off the walkers that are coming on quicker than they can kill them. Janey’s not sure they can fight them all off before they’re overpowered, but doesn’t have to worry about that for long. 

Suddenly, bright lights flash on, lighting up the tunnel in a too-bright hue. A voice accompanies the lights. “Get down!”

They don’t have to be told twice. Glenn ducks on top of Tara and Janey falls into a squat beside the two as a hail of gunfire rains down on the tunnel. The walkers fall one at a time, all being taken out in less than a minute. Janey drops their gun to the ground to cover their ears at the close gunfire and watches the scene before them until each reanimated corpse is finally dead. 

They come out of their squatting position slowly, feeling Glenn coming to stand beside them. The lights finally dim enough to see their surroundings, and they’re finally able to realize that the brights came from the headlights of a car. Inside, Eugene is seated in the passenger seat and he waves when he sees Janey’s eyes fall on him. A smile comes to their face, happy to see that the other trio had come back for them. 

They let their gaze fall on each of the people in a line in front of them, the ones who had taken out the walkers. They see Abraham and Rosita on one side, then notice the newcomers with the group. There’s a man, dressed in an orange shirt and khakis, and a woman beside him, dark hair up in a tight bun. The two smile over at Glenn, Tara, and Janey, looking relieved. Janey is confused, wondering if they know Glenn, when they finally let their eyes fall on the last person in the line. 

It’s Maggie. 

She’s alive, and smiling brightly at the man next to them. 

Glenn lets out a relieved laugh that’s full of emotion and then rushes past them to take his wife into his arms. The two kiss, smiling into it as they keep their arms wrapped tightly around each other. 

Janey steps back to stand beside Tara who is watching the couple, too, eyes misted. She looks over at them as they come to stand next to her, and they share a soft smile, both relieved beyond words that their friend had found his wife, alive and well, after everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> summary for italicized part: this is the flashback to the second person janey ever killed. they were camping with a few strangers outside of atlanta when their camp was attacked by a group of men (hinted to be the claimers that daryl meets up with after beth). one comes into janey's tent, cuts their abdomen, and attempts to hurt them further but is killed by janey before it can go too far. they leave the tent after this and see one of the children in the camp as a walker and wonder how they became one when there were no walkers in the camp (because at this point they didn't know that everyone has the virus). 
> 
> that's all the important stuff from that bit really. this experience leads janey to always have a weapon right within reach and under their pillow, and they do have a scar on their abdomen from the cut, but those are the only lasting physical things left from that (though of course, this experience does continue to affect them emotionally/mentally). 
> 
> hope you enjoyed this chapter! i was really happy with how the gender conversation came out and tried my best to keep it as in character as possible. and i just love writing eugene :) 
> 
> also side note that not all non-binary people are the same. i'm writing from my experience and using that for janey's since it is what i know, but being non-binary is different for everyone. not everyone defines it the same, or feels the same way janey does about pronouns and gendered words. i encourage those of you who are not non-binary to do your own research into it and know that no one person can speak for the entire group. that being said, my inbox is always open for questions (i actually teach about subjects like this for my internship!) or if you need any direction to resources :)


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